Once, and Future, King
by RuffRydeR
Summary: Saber's tale, from her eyes, and her eyes only. Chapter 10: Saber vs Assassin. Follows the anime's storyline, but will go take its own route after Episode 24. Please R&R.
1. Prologue: A Second Chance

Introduction

I've seen people do starting stuff like this, so I guess I'll try it. I haven't been doing it with my other fanfiction work, and it kind of breaks the flow to start it there...But maybe in the next chapter of that one.

Anyways, I've recently been introduced to the world of Fate/Stay Night...and while I rarely watch anime, that one just sucked me in. See, I love myths, and finally, I have an outlet to express it in. While the first few (if 20 or so is few) chapters are going to be roughly written according to the Anime series, I am taking the fic after that way beyond Episode 24. That just left me hanging so badly, that I started reading through the translations for Fate/Zero. (Yes, I refer to the heroes in those, the events of the 4th War, somewhat in here.)

Eitherways, as I mentioned, beyond Episode 24? Where...well, just watch. This fic is Saber-centric, as you can hopefully tell by the title. I'm not promising any pairings, as romance is not my forte, (or at least I don't believe it is). Besides, Saber would probably rather I write an action fic, if it's done from her point of view, and splash the romance and humor in here and there.

Also, I probably will semi-invent characters later on. Semi-invent? Yeah, like threw in a lot more heroes. Heh, anyways, this is basically just to whet the appetite. Enjoy, and please read and review. First person is something I've rarely tried before...

* * *

**Once, and Future, King**

_It is time, time to try again. And thank God, it comes so soon._

_Once more, I am Saber._ I have rarely been drawn by a summoning before. In fact, the 4th War had been her first time, and I had been somewhat naïve then. Some might say unprepared even. But even so, I was not the King of Knights for nothing, the most powerful spirit of the Saber class, with a blade that has resounded throughout history, more famed than any other. _So famous, in fact, that it would not even allow me to be summoned as anything but a Saber class. How am I going to get my chances that way?_

Not that I mind. I actually like the alias, and it is quite the title to live up to. And as a servant, I did my best the first time around, despite having such a master who was so…frustrating. But I failed. Archer bested me, bloodied me, beat me...And with failure, the grail remains out of grasp. Though, maybe that is not so bad. It was defiled by the touch of the unworthy, and it would probably have made a horrible mockery of my wish.

It was humbling, the feeling of defeat, especially since I have never before truly lost, though the way that ancient lusty madman had acted had rather confusing. It threw off my swordsmanship. It was also something to learn from, if I intend to seize the grail the next time and come out triumphant.

To be honest, the whole setting of the Grail War was just so…wrong, It was the first prolonged time I've been treated as a woman since my childhood…and matters were not helped that all the other servants had been male, except for some of the multiples of Assassin. Did that really count though? _Actually, should I care?_

And Rider, Caster, Archer…and obviously Berserker, they had all been…what was the term? _Clinically insane._

Okay, well, maybe Rider had not been so bad, but he had an ego the size of a battlefield, and Archer, one just as big. _Oh, I can probably be criticized as proud too, but I am bound by the Code of Chivalry._ The fact that I was supposed to be King Arthur did not bother either one bit. After all, they were not only a lustful pair, but they were also both known as bisexuals. Not that either that fool King of Conquerors, or the obsessive King of Heroes had honestly interested me. The Irish Lancer hero had probably been the closest, in that regard.

_That was not even the worst of it, really._ That horrid French caster mistaking me for the holy saint Jeanne…I doubt I am worthy of that name. And then my first knight amongst knights, driven mad with vengeance, after he had committed adultery with my…wife. That was probably one of the acts of my life I regret the most…that twisted charade of getting married, and the unexpected case of adultery that was brought before me, in view of my entire Round Table…What could I do but what was required of me?

_Enough reminiscing._ If I want the grail, I better answer swiftly, or this mage might give up on a Saber class…_Wait, no passage yet?_ This master was taking their sweet time. Mages with the power to call on me were rare, and the most powerful tended to be the sort that was always in a hurry. Well, there it is. A flicker of light…So weak, I think I would practically have to bull my way through with my own power. _I do not believe it. I think I might have actually been drawn by luck…_

Sighing inwardly, I composed that cold, steely exterior I was used to exuding, then focused my magic, and put my armour on. A summoning as shaky as this will probably hurt. Easy now, slowly does it. Seems there's trouble. _Maybe a flash of light will by me time and space to materialize. _There we go, a wider passage.

Out I leapt, and already, it seems my master is under assault. Soundlessly, like my Roman ancestors of old, I leap right into the old maneuver I had forced my troops to perfect. A silent charge, no warning given, and the spear is driven back. Enough time for proper etiquette now, I suppose.

Kid doesn't look like much, but he's my master alright. Ought to soften my glare…I think I made him piss his pants. No, that is the smell of blood. Ten years of sleep, and I have already forgotten it again. _Stunned silent, then? Very well…_

**I am Saber, your Servant, here as summoned. And you…You are my Master, correct?**

Standard enough, I think. A little stiff, yes, but I do think to myself in English. At least it's not a language I'm rusty in, this Japanese. Well? An answer, please? I would really rather not keep my back turned to an opponent. Are you…Oh, God. Why do the men always have to gape and gawk?

"W-what? Your…master?"

I will not roll my eyes. I will not roll my eyes. I…will…not…roll my eyes.

**Yes, you summoned a Saber Servant. And as a Saber, I heeded your call. Your orders, Master?**

I think I should hurry up with the rest of this introduction before that Lancer tries to take me out from behind.

**From now on, my sword will be with you and your fate, with me. Our contract has been complete…**

Trouble. Lancer is back. And he better be ready to face my blade. I turn to go, pondering if I said that last part correctly. No worries, I am here to fight, not talk. Then again, that never was my strong suit.


	2. A Hound at Bay

Author's Notes:

Well, here's a longer one, as requested. It seems First-Person is a rather wordy POV. I only got basically a halfways, if even, through Episode 3, and hit 2000 words already. I don't really want to make chapters longer, because then it gets too draggy, with my propensity for lengthy sentences and all. (though 1st person does a great job of cutting down on that.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy my examination of the short and sharp encounter between Lancer and Saber. I'm rather disappointed by Gae Bulg though. Mythically, the weapon technique actually involves piercing all the organs, not just the heart...but I guess it doesn't make too much sense if Saber survived something like that by simply dodging...

* * *

He asks me to wait. There is hesitation in that voice, and hence, I presume it is not an order. Simply, it is a confused exclamation. A waste of breath, to be precise There is no room for such on the field of battle. A step more, and I am out the door. A hop, then a leap, and my blade is drawn, right before Lancer. He strikes first, expecting me, and lithe muscles, possessing strength that had no right to be in a body such as mine, uncoil, swatting his strike away with my great sword. He draws back, then aims high, and I bring my weapon up with speed.

Still, the heft of my blade makes it slower than his spear, and I am required to dodge, but that is no matter. I pride myself in my agility, even in armour plates, but against other heroes who are actually famed for their speed, I needs must appear sluggish. I quickly step into a counterblow, forcing him to scuttle back. Lancer wastes no time in taking the fight back towards me, however, and the impact jars my arms, right through those unyielding gauntlets of magical steel.

A twist of his spear, and my blade is knocked aside. Grunting, I force myself to leap over him, despite being off balance. It's not an easy task, wearing a gown that swirls about my knees as I land. I give him another good hard shot, which he matches blow for blow, then I read his next intentions perfectly…

Or maybe he read mine. I am still not sure why I leapt into the air even after our weapons have clashed and we are both pushed back. The very moment I land, I decide to use his charge against, him, parrying once, then twice, stepping inside the reach of the spear. Mustering my strength, I cry out as I unleash the hardest of my blows yet, knocking him back with a blast of Invisible Air.

As Lancer draws back, I try to steel myself, being knocked a little off balance by my Master's brilliant observation. _Of course, it's invisible!_ I guess I momentarily dropped my mental guards because of that, as I cannot believe Lancer's little taunt got to me. In the blink of an eye, by instinct, my blade is drawn back, and, gritting my teeth, I charge. Three more blows and I drive my foe back more.

I suppose I do know why the insult stings. In my first fight in the last war, I faced a Lancer as well…and while he had to use a Noble Phantasm to do it, he revealed Excalibur's true nature to everyone's attention against my wishes. That was an odd war. Every single one of the heroes was loudly proclaiming their name and nature, not hiding it, probably. A battle of egos, I suppose.

Yes, I was rather naïve in that fight…To think, that last Lancer talked me into taking off my armour, and then baring my arm to a wound that would prevent from using Excalibur to its fullest. I am definitely determined to do nothing so foolish this time around.

**Well, Lancer? Will you withdraw and disgrace your class? Come at me, or I shall come at you.**

I have to say, I am probably being a bit too cocky here. Maybe I am just on edge…He does not seem to notice though.

"I will, but let me ask you first. Your Noble Phantasm…Is it a sword?"

_You are kidding, right? You think I am going to reveal something like that to you? Well now…_I crane my neck a bit, my bangs hiding my eyes. I have always been a bad liar, and I know it.

**Maybe. Maybe not. It could be an axe…or not. You don't suppose it could be a bow, could you?**

He sees through the lie right away, replying with some venom. I guess it was more of a joke, really, though, that is not really the sort of thing I do when fighting. Combat is a serious business, not a laughing matter, though the number of heroes I meet who think otherwise worries me. Still, that was a joke, alright. And I guess it sounded cocky enough for him to think my guard is down.

"Quite the first encounter. How about we agree to withdraw for now?"

What is he planning now? The spear, he's drawing on his magic, funnelling it…But he wants to withdraw? _No way!_

**Sorry, I refuse. I don't let an enemy get away! **And that will be one less enemy for the Grail. Lancer's smirking at me. I really should wipe that grin off his face…"Very well…I was just scouting for the moment, but now that I've come across a Servant, well, if you must insist..."

_Alright, he's drawing more power. I better brace myself. _I bring my sword up, and set my feet, ready to respond. He takes a leap, and yells his target. _How foolish._ "Saber, I'll have your heart!" he screamed. To be honest, I have rather had it with men trying to court and kill me at the same time.

Sidestepped it, that was easy enough, and now I'm facing his back…But he is still gathering mana. What…

"Gae Bulg!"

My body leaps back instinctively, my mind just processing the information of that shout as the spear comes darting at me. Maybe I can block it with my blade…_It went under!? I think its actually growing in leng-_

All my thoughts were halted by the painful shock that courses through my body. I am pierced. Not badly, yes, but even the slightest impact of a Noble Phantasm is an agonizing feeling, even for a Servant. The glowing red thorn pierces me just below the shoulder, and above my bosom, knocking me further up into the air. I try to keep the shock from my face, but I guess my Master could tell it was not all right, with how wide my eyes and mouth popped open.

Wanting to salvage some pride, I tried to land on my feet, but my body denies me even this. It was close though, but as the edge of my gown drags its way through the dust, I fall to one knee. Well, at least I managed to keep my off-hand on my sword. Dropping it would have been disastrous. I do not think I will be wiping that smirk off his face anytime soon, after all. I press the polished plate against my skin, trying to apply pressure and arrest any bleeding. My ability to recover would eventually seal it, thankfully, but I would have to deal with the ache for the rest of this encounter, at least…

Absurdly, I find I am now the one asking for an explanation of his Noble Phantasm. I guess Morganna was right. Optimism was one of my faults. **Was that a curse…No, you reversed cause and effect, did you not? **Even if it serves no purpose, it will buy me time to recover.

Of course, he does not answer me directly. Judging by the lack of surprise in his voice, I think he expected me to survive. It was a statement of fact, nothing more. "You dodged it. My Gae Bulg."

Well, I heard him the first time, though it did take me a few moments to remember the name. Celtic, just like myself, but unmodified by Roman influences. Gae Bulg. Just my luck. Once again, Lancer is an Irish warrior. This is getting much too similar to the 4th War for my liking. **Are you…the Irish Son of Light? **Talking hurts. He may have missed the heart, but I am worried he nicked the lung. I summarize the spear's ability, based on my observations, both for my benefit and my Master's. **That spear...the ****Gae Bulg. A demonic thorn, it pierces all defenses. It aims to pierce the heart first, then moves to fit that outcome, whatever the impediment. And you…the handler of that cursed crimson spear...You are the Hound of Culann, right?** I should have figured it out from his crazed, popped eye look, before he launched his Phantasm. The man is famous for that, and now I am quite certain, an interesting and worthy foe.

The Dog stifles a laugh, "Well, I screwed up. Really should've killed you with my Phantasm. I guess there is such a thing as being too famous." I disagree with the former, and agree with the latter, for obvious reasons. After all, I am the one with the invisible sword. He keeps yammering, "Servants should fight to the death, if their true identity is revealed. But my Master is a coward. Come back home, he says, if your Gae Bulg misses." With that, he turns to depart.

I blink, caught slouching, still favouring my right, after that blow. Preoccupied as I was with thinking about how I was to introduce myself, I really did not think he would not try and press his advantage. As for the introduction, well, knightly etiquette demanded it, should my foe reveal his own identity…I never was one for taking advantage of an enemy's weakness. I never had to in the 4th War…My identity was revealed to almost all the Servants when Invisible Air was dispelled by Lancer then. Realizing what was happening, I stammer out, **You…You are leaving?**

"Yes. You're welcome to follow, of course. But come prepared to die!" and with that, the Irish Lancer, most agile of the Servants, leaps backwards, and away from the field of combat. I stride after him a few steps, asking that he stand and fight. **Come back here!** I call, but inwardly, the fight had somewhat gone out of me. Besides, a Lancer in flight instead of standing his ground was not the sort of Servant I could catch.

I hear my Master's footsteps, and straighten from my slouch. While from my short glimpse, he did not look the sort to punish any sign of weakness, it was best not to risk anything that might anger him, until I know him better. Still, I couldn't take my hand off my wound just yet. My rush had caused a trickle of blood to squirt, and it was best to keep it sealed. I expend some mana to repair my armour, and patch the wound temporarily, waiting for the expected healing powers of a sorceror to replenish my strength. Until then, the best relief was to keep the pressure applied. But instead of a spell's incantation, I get another vague question...

"Just who are you?"

_Who am I? What, you mean my identity? I ought to clarify._ I guess, just like my last Master, he expected to summon Arthur the King...and got someone somewhat different from his expectations. **Must you ask? I am a Saber class Servant. If memory serves, I was the one summoned, so you should know who I am.**

You're a Saber class?"

_Please do not tell me you did not want a Saber class. Two summons now, and I have not been wanted by either Master? Is that what it is?_ Keeping the dismay out of my voice, I reply factually, **Yes. You may call me Saber.** _So...some healing now? Please?_

Inwardly, I sigh, as he replies with an introduction. Well, I cannot fault him for being polite. "I see. That's a rather odd name. Mine is Shirou Emiya...So...I guess...For my next question-" I try not to show it, but even my patience is stretched thin. I hope he forgives me for interrupting.

**I see...You are not a typical Master, are you? **The short and bewildered reply confirms my conclusion. I continue, **Be that as it may, you are still my Master. We have made our pact, and I shall never betray you.**

For a moment after, I try not to cringe, wondering if I had made him angry...if his raised voice was the sign of some sort of magical power to be unleashed. But no...Just a request to not call him Master? _I can do that._

**I shall call you Shirou then. I like the sound of that better, anyway.** Suddenly, he clutches his palm, the sigil on it burning. I knew what caused that, and immediately forced my senses outward, seeking the presence of another Servant. Another fight tonight then? I better get healed up, and quick. I suppose I have to be blunt. **Shirou, heal this wound for me.**

His reply...His admittance of the lack of capacity to share his mana...It shakes me out of my stoic exterior, realizing exactly how bad my lot was now. I snorted, maybe out of disgust, maybe resignation, but hearing that, I realized I would have an even lesser chance of winning this war than I did the last one. I have made a promise though, and those I keep, even if they were to cause me much pain. Still, not since Mordred had I experienced such a cruel hand from Fate. I guess even a hero deserves some bad luck every millenium. Maybe he can learn to be capable of it...I could only hope.

**Fine. I still have strength enough. But I can only regenerate superficial injuries. Still, it should not hinder me for one more duel. **And with that, I dash off, ignoring his request to cease. I was starving for a few moments alone, to think, and adjust my strategies accordingly to this new knowledge, though I doubted it would do me much good in the end. As I leap over the estate's walls, blade drawn for battle, I stifle the urge to pity myself, my honour, my feudal obligations. Had I been of darker bent, I would have no qualms slaying him and seeking another Master. But I was a Cornish King, not an Irish Hound. One thing was certain. It seems there are more days than Saint Patrick's feast, when it would have been good to be Irish.


	3. In Sheep's Clothing

Author's Notes:

Anyways, I guess this would be the interlude between the Lancer and Berserker fight. I rather enjoy the freedom I get to play with those parts in the anime where we don't see Saber a lot or what she's up to. As well, I guess this has some of my interpretation of how she views Tohsaka.

Still, I'm even more excited to get to the next chapter. Yes, we know what happens, but I still felt it deserved a cliffhanger, LOL. A Berserker and a Von Einzbern. Considering what happened in Fate/zero with the 4th Grail War, that's bound to trudge up something nasty in Saber's memories.

Until then, please R & R.

* * *

Ah, an Archer, and definitely no hero of Gold, this one. An easier target for my Invisible Air. Curious, however…He wields two blades as a preference, and not his bow? _No matter._ With two hands on my blade, I muster mana to it, losing myself in the moment. I suppose, after my humiliation in the 4th War, I have no love for the Archer class. I do not hold back, uttering a fierce war cry, though I am quite aware the precious magic I spend on this blast of air now could be magic I would require later….Magic my Master cannot supply.

My bangs are tossed about by the strong breeze, whipping around my body, as I shatter my foe's weapon with ease. The chagrin on his face is obvious, the dismay, delightful. I am enjoying this too much. Now to press my triumph…Hah, his Master has ordered his withdrawal. A tactical mistake, if there ever was one. Who shall halt this Knight now?

I do not miss a moment, and when she attempts to hurl magic at me, I know it will simply bounce off. It is the strength of my armour, this resistance. I was famed for it, even in life. The splash of magic around me though…I wish I could absorb some of it. Still, if I can eliminate a Master now, then we will be closer to our goal and I will not need to stockpile my magical reserves as carefully. My charge is now such that my gown whips behind me. _Almost there…_

And my Master chooses this very moment to bark out an order. Instinctively, hearing sudden steel in his voice, I obey, and then curse myself afterwards for it. Impetus is lost. My charge has faltered. I struggle to compose myself before this foe notes my uncertainty. That order, so contrary to my instincts, pierced me almost as deeply as the Gae Bulg. I keep my blade aloft, ready to slay, and voice my protest.

**She is Archer's Master. It would be best to slay her no-**

I am interrupted. When I was King, I could silence any such fool with a glare. But not here…I am the Servant, he is the Master…And he has not the slightest clue what is going on. Once again, and not for the first time, I regret answering his summons. _Not know who I am? Why I am here? _A small, proud part of me wants to yell out, 'I am Arthur, King of the Britons. Kneel, knave! Aid me in my quest!' but that would probably just confuse him even further. Still, for all his crazy talk, I listen. A Servant must always listen.

"Please stop trying to randomly kill everyone long enough to tell me, I'll listen!" he cried out, his voice cracking as he pleaded.

As noted, it was crazy talk…_Explain all this? I do not really know how to put in any better than I have. _At least, not in so dangerous an environment, but maybe when the danger has ceased, I can think things through. But first, this Master…

**Randomly kill? Stop talking nonsense. All enemies must be slain. I refuse to obey that order.**

He comes right back with an answer. So he does know the meaning of confidence…And in one fell swoop, it takes but a few words, and I am disarmed. "Girls shouldn't go around swinging invisible swords, especially if they're injured!" Referring to me as a girl…Even my last Master was willing to respect my wishes and treat me as a knight and as a man. When I have time, I should request the same of Shirou. Still, a part of me finds the concern…touching.

The lady Master talks, and my head swings to the fore. _Fool! You almost forgot about her. Tighten your grip._ **My blade does not fall before my enemies have done the same.**

"So…are you telling me a Servant as loyal as Saber defies her Master?" she taunts, and I am caught. She knows my class too well. Lowering my sword, I stand at attention, ignoring the pain in my chest. Whether it is the wound to my torso or the one to my pride, I cannot decide. Eitherways, it seems Shirou knows this Master somewhat. Well, her name, at least. And names are powerful things. Silently, I follow the pair back into the building, restraining the urge to listen in on their conversation. This was a new thing, two masters talking like comrades, and it sparked my curiousity. Maybe this Tohsaka will explain things a little better to Shirou than I can. It would certainly save me the trouble. I comfort myself with the fact that my presence will keep her civil, for with her Servant injured, she is no threat to me.

Still, I am no magus, and can only stand and watch as she easily repairs the broken glass through which we had entered with a mere drop of blood. Watching Merlin or Morganna at their work was one of the few things that had fascinated me when I was King, and even this simple task, as Tohsaka put it, caught my curiousity. I tilt my head slightly so I could peer over both their shoulders. I must say, youngsters in this age are quite tall.

I continue to stand as stoically as I can, as Tohsaka asks more probing questions. Maybe it would be best to keep Shirou from revealing his weakness, but if a knight like myself could tell this about him already, then there was no way he was going to hide it from anyone else. Indeed, I also wanted to know how he managed to summon me myself. From Tohsaka's frustration, I can almost deduce that she had wanted to summon someone of my class herself. Determined as I was to act like the very image of those empty suits of armour in my halls in Camelot, despite my despair in having been given such a Master rising rapidly, it left me somewhat vulnerable to Tohsaka's probing.

"You seem to have not been fully materialized. Is it because you were summoned by this novice?"

**Correct. Shirou did not have enough magical power to fully summon me, so going into spirit form or replenishing my magical energy will prove difficult. **Still, she was too obsessed with the grains of truth I provided her, that she did not even notice the lies. I might just prove an able bluffer, one of these days. I can always augment the magical power of a summoning myself. I am incomplete because I am not a spirit free of my body, and unless I die, I will not have access to everything I had in life. Somewhere, it lies still, barely breathing, frozen in time with a mortal wound that only magic can cure. I do miss the full suit of armour the King Arthur possesses, however. Eitherways, this very form is already that of my spirit. As for my limited restorative abilities, she would have concluded that from Shirou's admissions anyways.

Her disappointment in not being my Master mirrors mine. A ruthless demeanour, though not as capable in hiding her emotions, and an actual willingness to fight, amongst other things, this Tohsaka possessed. This did not even begin to consider the ability to actually feed me mana, or having the slightest idea about each class and their strengths and weaknesses. But my choice has been made, and for the next few days and weeks, I would have to live with it. Lay down an oath of fealty sworn? Unthinkable!

A hand tugs my arm and I realize Shirou is calling me to come. Something about making me look less conspicuous. I turn slowly, and I see him wave an arm and slowly vanish into a room. A good thing, I suppose, as Archer's spirit chooses this very moment to ask, "Jealous, Saber?"

Momentarily, I pout, but eventually, I do shake my head. Yes, I was jealous of Archer having such a Master, but ultimately, what did that matter in the scheme of things? A useless emotion, this jealousy. So, exactly what does my Master want? I stride into the room, and I see him looking through a pile of clothes.

He does not even look at me when he addresses me, "I…Well, I don't really know what a girl like you would like to wear…There's not a lot of women's clothing in this house…Just a few things Sakura had put through the laundry, but hasn't managed to carry home yet."

**You do not like what I wear, Shirou?**

He's scratching his hair. He is either embarrassed for some reason or lying, though why a Master would do either to a Servant, I am not too sure. He can count on my absolute loyalty, so why be ashamed of something towards me? "No, I do. It looks very bea- Well, I mean…It's just…It'll draw attention. Nobody wears armour in this city."

**Lancer did. I do.**

Shirou's somewhat agitated now, "Anybody who isn't a servant, Saber. Please, tell me what you would like to wear. I don't think Tohsaka is the sort who likes waiting."

Stoically, I point to my armour. **This.** I can tell my Master isn't pleased. But if we are going into the midst of the battlefield, I am not about to put away my defences. Sighing, he says, "Oh, alright, let's go then." As we pass by the doorway though, he stops, then grabs something from a cabinet. Stuffing a yellow cloak into my arms, he tells me to put it over my clothes. It feels utterly ridiculous, but I was not about to disagree over so simple an order. After all, as he had mentioned, I would already stick out in the armour anyways.

The fabric feels odd, like it is not really cloth. It is also somewhat too large for me, but not enough that it would be a hindrance. Obviously, both the magi do not like how it looks, though it bothers me that Shirou complains it was my fault that I ended up wearing this. How is it a fault to do your best to ensure your master's safety? I memorize the path we take as we go along, and let the two magi continue to chat. Knowledge of the battlefield was essential to victory.

A few more minutes of walking, and we were at our destination. I memorize its features, and promise to myself that should Shirou ever use up all his command spells, I would bear him to the safety of this church, before I ever go to seek a new contract. I stop, excusing myself, **Shirou, I would have your leave to wait out here. I came along to protect you, and if you are to spend your time inside the Church, then I can locate you with ease.**

He trusts the excuse easily. I hope he learns to stop being so naïve. Staying outside the Church allowed me to protect him better than if I was inside. After all, it was already a sanctuary, and there was no need for a guard to be inside a sanctuary, only outside it. From here, I could spy and sense threats from further away, with no voices to distract me. That…and the Church gave her an uneasy feeling. I do not think I would have anything useful to contribute to this conversation anyways.

Hopefully, when this Shirou Emiya emerged, he would be read- _Trouble. I sense it._ I turn my head and close my eyes, focusing on the foreboding I feel. _Where is it coming from?_ I was hoping this trip would be uneventful…

Still, I decide not to voice my concerns as Shirou and Tohsaka emerge. It was no use getting them alarmed when I myself could not ascertain trouble. For a while, I was correct…We almost make it back to the estate. But just as Shirou bid his rival good night, disaster struck. I called their attention to the hulking warrior in the street, and the little girl that accompanied him. This Master greets Shirou as if she knows him as well. How is it that my Master seems to know all the others? Maybe I should I study the rest of his friends to find clues to other Servants' whereabouts. But this girl...something about her is familiar. It it just too hard to think with this ache in my chest. _Ah...Von Einzbern? Yes...I know you. Too well. Fate just has to be cruel one more time, doesn't it?_

I file all these worries away in the back of my mind. First, there was the matter of this warrior. His class was obvious. A Berserker. _And one more fierce than the battle fury of the Hound, to have supplanted Cuchulainn in this role. _Keeping my troubles from my facade, I realize the irony of the situation. Once again, I start off the Grail War facing the full fury of Fury itself, after being dealt a debilitating wound by Lancer. _Well, as long as this Berserker cannot turn every single thing in his grasp into a Noble Phantasm, I should be fine. _I probably should not think about that. Almost being bested by a magically enhanced street lamp was a humbling experience. Not that the submachine guns had been much of an improvement, but there were none of those here, yet plenty of the street lamps. However, that was but the least of the reasons I wished to put my past fights with that Berserker aside in my head…

Time to stop thinking and start fighting. **Shirou, stay back! **The Berserker leapt. I flung aside the cloak, and hurtled into a charge.


	4. Bloodshot

Author's Notes:

Here we go then. I can't stop writing. I guess getting a day off from work is bad for me. This will be the last scene of serious Saber fighting for a bit, so I decided to make it as descriptive of the fight as I could. Ended up saving a fair bit of the reminiscing for the time between the end of the fight and when Shirou finds her in the dojo. That bit's not done by the way, and yes, I guess the end of this chapter is a tad corny, but I think it flows right into the next one I am writing.

Anyways, here's comes the hack and slash. Eat up, and please R & R.

* * *

Momentarily, I am forced downward, the wind knocked out of my lungs, as our blades clash. Finally, I deflect, giving myself a mere moment to leap over his next swing. Immediately, I decide that my best option was dodging the blows, considering how much in jarred my body to have them clash. Still, every now and then, I am forced to block, and my two arms together barely have the strength to match his one. Where it was my strength that gave me the edge in the battle with Lancer, here I would have to lean on my speed.

I had to get him moving, turning, twisting. It is much easier to topple a large man in motion than one standing still. Silently ducking another sword swing, I implement this strategy, rushing past the monster's left leg and his twisting sword arm towards…_An iron pole. Ugh…I'm trying not to think about that here._ I use my momentum to run up it with magical ease, then push off as he tries to hack it down, landing behind him. But I barely have my feet set before I have to jump backwards again, getting my hands on an iron bar jutting out. I help myself onto the wires, carefully moving my blade so that it doesn't cut them.

Dashing along them, I realize getting myself caught in straight line motion was a mistake, what with the Berserker's longer strides. Still, after trading blows, I realize what had to be done. Beating Berserker blade to blade would take too much of my magical energy, and without a source to replenish it from…As he chops through the wires, I leap from that set to the on across the street, then back again, momentarily confusing him, and meanwhile pushing ever onward.

Finally, I land on my steel sabatons, my tassets whirling about my thighs, knees bent, ready to strike upward and slay the Master. But this was Ilya von Einzbern, the child of a friend who nursed my wounds, cared for me and steadied me when I was shaken. How could a Knight do this to her? How could do the King of Knights do this? I cannot. I have hurt enough of those who cared for me out of duty for one lifetime. The last Berserker reminded me of that.

I straighten with a tight lipped frown, only one hand on my blade. I do not know what I hoped to achieve with that…Maybe show her I did not intend to threaten her? If that was the case, I failed. She pouts, and I wonder if it is a flicker of recognition, or just hostility. For a moment, I am distracted.

I barely have time to bring up my blade and protect myself, and my feet are not set for the impact. I grunt my dismay as I lose my footing. Chips of stone and flakes of iron get tangled in my hair, as I crunch into one of the walls, my sword cutting at one of the iron poles beside me. Shirou cries my name in alarm yet another time, and this time, I must agree he has good reason to.

My head rings, hearing Ilya's high pitched voice cheer her Berserker on…as if he needed the support. I push up from my knees, back onto my feet, with the help of my blade, and give my foe what I hoped was a defiant look. I will not be so easy to 'finish off' as Ilya hopes. Biding my time, I wait for the Berserker to bring down his sword, shattering the earth, before I leap up and summon the mana I need for Invisible Air, getting a firm grip on Excalibur's hilt with both of my gauntlets, and extending it as far back as I could go. Crying out, I unleash as hard a blast of air as I could at impact, though the brute parries, deflecting some of the wind back in my face, making my hair whip around my ears.

Somersaulting backwards, I realize something gave in my last attack. A shot of pain riddles my torso and I fall to one knee just after I land, requiring one hand to put pressure back on my breastplate. The wound had opened…I was in trouble. Again, my name is called out, for all that good that would do. I needed to come up with something else. Gritting my teeth, I focus on the visage of this monster…If only I was at the fullest of my strength...I hear my Master plead me to retreat, and I turn to see him rushing towards me. Thankfully, Tohsaka holds him back…and then, buys me time to think? If I get out of this one, I really would have to thank her. But, between the pain in my side and Shirou's repeated pleas for a withdrawal, I cannot plan. I just settle on my old plan, the hard part being trying to make it past him again. This time, there would be no hesitation with Ilya. She does not even recognize me, does she?

I failed to accelerate fast enough and his blade finally catches me with my sword down. In a blink of an eye, I was hurtling backwards, and I could not feel anything below my waist. His mighty sword had ripped into my flank and I bite down even harder, trying to keep my eyes focused on my foe, despite a small part of me repeating in the back of my head that I was done.

My vision darkens, and I cry out in pain as my lower back, soaked in blood, hits the pavement, then, rolling over as my arms flailed wildly, my forehead cracks against it as my next groan is muffled by the cement. I do not even want to look down, at my gown, feeling a pool of blood forming…Distantly, I hear my alias being yelled once more.

I crane my neck up, and my green eyes could not even get my foe in focus. Everything was blurred red, and I realized blood was dripping from my scalp. I hear Shirou's footsteps, and raise my blooded gauntlet up to signal him to back off. Raising Excalibur up, I try to use it to support myself and rise, back to my feet. My body shudders as each aching limb and muscle is forced to move solely by my will, causing more blood to pour out of my wounds. I close my eyes and push myself even further, getting one knee off the ground. But that was as far as I got. Between maintaining my armour and my sword's invisibility, I just had nothing left.

My left flank burns, my shoulder aches, my head throbs, but I focus solely on the blood dripping down my blade. It seems the only blood it shall drink this war will be mine. My breathing is ragged and heavy, as I try to hold back tears, knowing I had failed again…failed my Master…failed Britain…failed in my promises. I imagine it is my pride pouring from my wounds, not my blood.

Ilya's voice makes my side ache even more. A friend's child…I guess betrayal has always been my destiny. A King is ever lonely. She tells us all the identity of my foe, and if I had the strength to care, I would have disagreed with Ilya's assessment. My blade could match the legendary Heracles…if only I had the energy to summon it. A girl knight, by herself, however, would indeed be overwhelmed. Ilya then assesses my regenerative abilities, and gives the final orders to finish me off. _An execution, how fitting._

I cannot regenerate in time. I keep my head bowed, and arms bent. My blonde hair is already bound up, and will not be in the way. The monster will have a clean stroke. Maybe I deserve this, for all my sins…

"Leave her alone!" That was Shirou's voice…and getting closer.

I look up, startled, and immediately regret the pain it brings my head. I turn towards the sound, and gape as I realized how close he was. My eyes could focus now, focus upon him, and then I brace myself for the impact of him falling upon me. Surprisingly, his touch is light, and I realize this is the first time he has ever truly held me. But instead of pushing me further down, he pulls me up. My right arm is knocked to one side as I am helpless to resist. And even if I did have my strength, I was too confused by all that was happening.

He tosses me to the ground, out of the sword's reach. I hear the sickening crunch, and am thankful that I did not see it. _Was that how it sounded when I got hit?_ On my knees, I ignore my agony, and I turn towards my Master. **Shirou! **Our roles are reversed, and I find I am the one gaping and crying out his name, stunned as I was. I survey his body, almost certain the wound was fatal. If so, I would vanish anyways. Why did he have to suffer the torment I was supposed to bear alone? It would be another weight on my mind, when I return to the Throne of Heroes, and then, my body, to rest…

Everyone else was stunned too, and when I look up, I see Ilya, and I glare at her with uninhibited rage. I was too weak to do more. My mind faintly registers Ilya leaving, then Tohsaka and Ilya trading barbs, and finally, Tohsaka cursing Shirou for saving me. _Saving me!_ The concept was almost ridiculous.

Slowly, I start to crawl over to the body, wondering how I had not faded yet. That meant he lived…I get rid of my blade to give myself more energy, when I feel I am faltering, and I succeed in giving myself enough to collapse on top of him. _This could not get more humbling, could it?_ I dispel my armour for even more strength, leaving myself with the bloodied blue and white gown. Moving myself around, I wrap my arms around his body, and giving an agonized cry, force myself to stand. It takes me two tries before I succeed, and I am afraid my blood is already mingling with his, and splattering over each other's clothes.

It is all I can do to stay upright, my Master in my arms. I feel a soft hand on my shoulder, and I turn to face a worried Tohsaka. But the next word she says set my heart racing…"Archer."

My injured foe from that earlier encounter reappears, glaring daggers at me. Despite that, I am in a far weaker state than he is. I try to concentrate on resummoning my armour, but it is no use. A single arrow, and I would be finished. What Tohsaka does next, however, astonishes me.

"I'll take him home. Archer, escort Saber back, will you. She's hurt, so be gentle with her waist." _Alright, maybe it could get more humbling after all..._

Shirou is taken from my grasp, and Toshaka bears him gently home. My knees weaken but Archer grabs my arms, and keeps me from falling. I do not know why, but that touch feels so familiar. He airs my sentiments for me…or well, our sentiments are the same, "What is this? Are we to cuddle our foes into submission?"

"Saber may have acted to protect Shirou, but in the same act, I was protected, while you were injured."

"Really? It seems to me that Ilya girl's whims is what saved you."

"Just…help her." Tohsaka finishes there conversation. He takes my arm around his neck and allows me to stagger alongside him. The rest of the trip to Shirou's home is a blur, though I distinctly remember Archer studying the curves of my bodice at some point along the way…and getting rebuked by Tohsaka for it.

I collapse into a chair as Tohsaka gives detailed instructions to Archer for where to get a few sets of clean clothing in my size to replace my currently ruined combat garb. As he leaves, she then turns to me, holding out bandages. I shake my head and point to Shirou, whose wounds were still bleeding. My body always cured injuries from the outside in, and while they still hobbled me and sapped my strength, the cuts I received had now sealed.

Lapsing in and out of consciousness, I find myself in a room with a futon laid down, and change into the simple set of clothes I was given, a white top and a teal skirt. Tucking myself in, I fall asleep and do something rare.

I dream…


	5. In the Dark of Night

Author's Notes:

Yay, reviews! Keep them coming. I slowed down for this chapter because it does not pull a lot from the anime. The second half is the dojo/gym scene the morning after the Zerker fight, though I did insert something special from Saber's 4th War experience with a Servant harvesting innocents for magic. Honestly, the personalities they picked for Fate/Zero's heroes are astonishingly diverse compared to the ones in the 5th War. =D

Humour, I try to slip in here and there, and for the moment, romance too, until we get deeper into the series. Slipped a dab of it in the last chapter, though I guess it wasn't very noticeable, trying to explain why Tohsaka was the one who carried Shirou home, and not our tough little warrior girl. I splash a bit of it in this one too. As for humour, most of it is in her thoughts. =3

Anyways, until then, please R & R. Look at the first line. Saber obviously wants that too. =P

* * *

**Please…**

I was losing. Not only that, but I have resigned myself to this loss. Normally, I would fight to my very last breath, my last smidgen of strength and refuse to break, no matter the odds…But this time, things were different. I was broken. I have fought this man before, many times before. He has come at me with lances and fists and halberds. He has brought to bear guns and iron staves and spears and fighter planes.

Yes, fighter planes. I have countered and dodged and overcome them all...Well, Archer actually brought down the plane, but I abhor him, so he does not count. But now he comes at me armed with Arondight…and his face. He swipes at my armour again, sending me upon my rear, battered, beaten. I do not have the will to keep fighting Berserker. _No, I must not think of him as one. This…this all is my fault. His madness is my doing. Call him by his name, damn you._ I stand up again sluggishly. The power in his blow staggers me, doubling me over. I fall to my knees, and bring up Excalibur one last time. The flashing Arondight swats my weapon aside, and my throat is dry, as I plead, in tears. My voice cracks.

**Please…stop…**

Berserker does not heed me. I did not expect him to, and I wait for the cold steel to slice my thin neck. I deserved no less, ordering my wife's execution and yet forgiving him. What sort of foolish ruler was I? I blink as nothing happens. Berserker is frozen, and regrettably, a warrior's instinct takes over. My grip over Excalibur strengthens as I stab him and he collapses in my arms. I sob as I relate to him why I wish to win the Grail. To atone for all my mistakes…And he was the greatest mistake of them all.

He laughs at me, the most horrific and yet gratifying sound I have heard…"Still troubled, my King? Is that why you still wield your sword?" His words are soft, but my head rings with their resounding echoes, "I wished to be executed. You forgave me where I should not have been forgiven. How could you not hate me?" I cannot respond. Even in forgiveness, I did him wrong. Can I not do anything right? "Dying cradled in my King's bosom, as if I were a loyal, faithful knight…"

**Sir Lancelot…** The name finally comes out again, this time without the shock when realization had first come. But once again, I was too slow. The Perfect Knight…My Perfect Knight, tainted by the darkness, turned Berserker, faded away in my arms. Getting up, I sob two more words, before I push on, determined more than ever to win the Grail. With every step, I think about every man who has died for me, dying in pain following an unworthy king to the dreaded field of Camlann. Squeezing every last bit of strength out of my battered body, I strode forward, hoping to use my wish so I could tell him what I wanted to say.

**Lancelot, you were…**

I blink. The sun is in my eyes as I rise, then immediately regret doing so. Morning has come. Clutching my aching side, I find I am breathing hard. Just a dream then…Just a dream. Ten years ago, and yet it still haunts me. Sweaty palms grasped the blanket that covered me, and I shove it off. The sun's been up for some time now. I am normally an early riser, accustomed to such things by my years as King. The running of a kingdom was a job that took every hour from sunrise to sunset, especially in a day when the only lights at night were the moon, stars, torches and magic.

But I had a late night last night…and a bad one at that. I have not gone through so bad a strain on my body since I faced Rider, Berserker and Archer one after the other…Still, I have not with me all the skill and strength I possessed in the last war, considering my master's inability to circuit his magic through myself. I always need to remember that limitation. It will be very difficult to overcome. Some might say impossible, but…_I am not supposed to know the meaning of that word, heh._

I need some space to think, somewhere quiet. Checking on a couple of rooms, I find them too dark for my taste. _And these sliding paper and wood doors…Almost broke one a couple of rooms back, , at least that proves some of my strength is returned._ I end up eventually wandering out into the open, and my eyebrows rise quizzically as Tohsaka walks in. She greets me, "Oh, Saber. I hope you're fine with my old clothes. Don't worry, you can keep them while the wars last…It's the least I can do until Shirou learns how to grant you Spirit form."

**Are you here to fight now? **At that, Archer's spirit whispers in my ear, "If you wish it, I will oblige." I wince, backing away, not certain how well my body has healed. I might not even be able to summon my armour yet. My sword, however, I could already feel gripped within my hand.

However, Tohsaka shakes her head, allowing me to relax, then says, "No, just trying to knock some more sense into Shirou before I leave you and your Master to your own devices. I still can't believe he tried to save you last night."

_Exactly my sentiments. _I nod, knowing it would be best to reinforce that advice myself later on. But I trust this Tohsaka, even if she is another Master. She does not look the sort that would break her word. Letting her by, I head towards the dojo…It is a quiet space, without too much of the noises of nature, but with enough sun coming in. It is a good place to reflect on what this all meant. So many things to think about: A Master that was not really a Magus, the identities of two of my Servant foes, and an enemy who was a friend…a friend who is an enemy.

And always in my mind, the Grail, and what I wish to achieve with it. I suppose a very small part of me needs to thank Shirou that my quest for it in this War did not end last night. That part is vastly outnumbered by the pressing need to impress in him that he does not need to risk his self for my sake. Too many men and women have done that already, and for no lasting reward, but the horror of Camlann. I pick a corner, and kneel, and think.

I do not know how much time went by before I noticed my Master's presence outside the door. Hastily, I wrapped up my last thought, organizing in my head what I wished to speak to him about, before finally acknowledging his presence. **You have awoken then.** It is not a question. A mere statement of fact…_I suppose I shall save revealing to him that I can sense him should he draw near for later… _"Yes, just now."

I walk up to him, appraising his condition. **You still do not look entirely well to me. **I say, again, another fact. He denies it, averting his eyes. I suppose I finally have met someone who is a worse liar than me. _Fine then. I have an excuse for harsher words. _**Really? That is good to hear. Now, if you are feeling better, I would like to discuss what happened last night.**

He turns around, and I hold his gaze. I stifle the urge to pinch my hand, just to make sure this is real, surprised as I was that he was actually listening to me or, at least, giving me the courtesy of looking like he was. Kiritsugu ignored my every wish, request and ideals. This Shirou may be less of a magus, but he is more of a Master in that respect. However, he still has a lot of learning to do. **I prefer my Master to not do what you did yesterday. Combat is my area of expertise, I prefer that you focus on that which is yours. **_I should thank him though. Maybe at this point? No…Just a bit more. _**As my Master, there is no reason for you to protect me, and there is nothing to be gained from it.**

He is nothing if not vehemently against my suggestion…But at least he acknowledged it. It was more than Kiritsugu would have granted me. "Are you telling me there is nothing to be gained from helping somebody?" _Yes…I suppose, I am…If I could only tell you where that got me…_ It is my turn to shrink back. I muster arguments to rebuke him, founded on the very principle that I was not really a person. At least, not anymore. However, he does not notice any of this, and I am relieved as he changes the topic…though why does he need to confirm that I am agreeable to being called Saber?

**Yes. I have made my contract with you as a Servant. I am your sword, Shirou…**He interrupts me, and asks what, I believed, was a rhetorical question. _To become the victor in the Holy Grail War? Of course! _I am not sure where he is going with this. In confusion, I mumble his name…resolutely? I guess I do not know how to voice uncertainty very well.

He then responds with something I have been made very well aware of, since I fought my first battle with Lancer yesterday. My strength is only as good as that of my Master. They call Sabers the most outstanding class, but I feel…well, average, compared to the strength I possessed in the last War. But the biggest difference I had detected has been in my agility and toughness. Differences that were definite slaps to my face in my encounter with Lancer and Berserker. Still, I wonder if there is more to that statement than he is letting on…**Are you saying you do not intend to fight?**

"I have the will to fight…it's just that, I don't think chances are very high," he answers, simply confirming what I thought. However, there is nothing to be gained by increasing his lack of confidence. **If your chances are low, then I will raise them for you…**_Somehow, I will. They are my chances too, after all. _But I do not voice that currently, I have no idea on how I can do that. I cannot leave him with a hanging statement however. **I will use whatever means are at my disposal.**

"Wait…are you going to assault humans to restore your magic?" he asks. Where he had gotten that idea from, I cannot say. Maybe Tohsaka? I wonder if she is not as good an influence as I thought. It is something feasible for servants, yes, but I never had to make such a choice in the last War.

I close my eyes, and immediately recall to mind what Caster did in that War…The memory is fresh and vivid and brief. He used children as living shields against me, slaying them one by one while I stood helpless, unable to do anything with my blade. Then, he tosses the last one into my arms, ostensibly handing the child over to the being he believed to be Jeanne d'Arc…and as I hold the youngling, he explodes in a shower of demonic tentacles, encircling me…entrapping me…

**Attacking unarmed foes is something I cannot abide by. Doing that would violate my Knight's oath.** I respond with no doubt in my voice, holding his gaze. A small part of me wants to plead that there are other ways to enhance my power. This is only the easiest…but that would be a lie, and against my nature as much as attacking civilians is. He seems to accept this and look down. I choose to keep my gaze steady, though I wonder if he is thinking what I am thinking he would do now. I make my stand. **However, if my Master orders me to, I shall obey. But you must be willing to pay for that order with one of your important command seals.**

I keep my gaze straight ahead, and inwardly, I brace myself for the forced movement of my limbs that a command seal unleashes…It is a horrid feeling, "I would never make you do anything like that."

I catch my breath, trying to keep from looking startled, but his next words are like a punch to my still injured gut. "I should apologize…I imagine what I said must have been insulting, but I really didn't mean to." Recovering myself, I respond with some haste, **No, I should apologize. I misread your intentions, and that lead me to the wrong conclusion. **He smiles, and I find that to be more pardon than any verbal forgiveness he could give me. Confidently, he puts his hands on his hips, and states our situation in a rough summary.

"Alright, I know I don't really have a clue when it comes to being a Master, but we'll work through this together anyhow, and succeed. Alright?" I do not have a clue where this sudden jolt of confidence came from, but I was glad about it. Almost enough to make me smile really, and my lips slip from my control slightly, as I mumble his name again. **That's good. **And for a brief moment, I think the corners of my mouth actually lifted upwards. A strange rumbling sound interrupts my good mood, however, and trying to keep myself from laughing, I say the first thing that comes to mind.

**Ah, you have not eaten yet. Hunger is the enemy. Let us eat. **_Oh God, did I just say that? I cannot believe I just said that._ Stiffly, I walk right by him as we exit the dojo, looking straight ahead, and reminiscing about how badly I missed my Royal Scribe and the brilliant speeches he wrote that I could never deliver properly. Halfway there, I sense he is looking at me. **Is something wrong, Shirou?**

"I just realized…are you fine with eating Japanese food?" I stifle the urge to brag. When I was a child, there were days I survived on boiled leather, raw rabbit meat and dandelion greens…Turn up my nose at a fine cut of raw fish and steamed rice? Right… **Yes, as long as it is edible, I do not mind. Extravagance is the enemy.** _There it is again, ugh. _And this time, he notices.

"We sure have a lot of enemies, huh?"

I focus on the door's handle so that I do not chuckle. **It seems so.** _It is a War, after all… _I open it for my Master, but his hand is on the handle as well, just moments after. It seems he intended to open it as well…for me? I shrug and pull it open, though I realize his cheeks seemed to have gained some colour. Maybe he is feeling better after all.

Stepping inside, I notice the presence of others in the house. My fists clench. More trouble?


	6. Hunger Strike

Author's Notes:

Yeah, the first bit was from the 4th War. It is from a part (the final volume of Fate/Zero) that there isn't even an English translation out on the web yet, so, not being able to read Japanese, I cannot guarantee it happened like I wrote it, but I believe it is close.

And as for romance...sorry, there really was only one scene this chapter that could even hint at romance, so...=S I believe the next set of events can be useful for that though. As for her return...Well, I'm trying to think of how, if I do do that, it won't be so cliche. As with most things, I'll worry about it when I get there. =P

Anyways, R&R, please! =3

* * *

Shirou tells me to relax, then relates the identities of his visitors to me. Their intentions sound peaceful enough…a friend who does some of his chores and his legal guardian. I cease trying to gather mana to summon my armour, but what he says next has me twiddling my thumbs. **You want me to hide?**

I discern what I can from his halting explanation, but it was obvious what he meant. The less people who were not involved in the war knew about my presence, the better. After all, while I looked simply like any other foreign girl visiting this country now, if they caught a glimpse of my face, going around in armour, they would start getting suspicious. Aside from that, a woman living unmarried with a man alone in a house was frowned upon in my time too, and if people who did not know about magic came by here often, I would not be able to use the excuse that I am a Servant.

For a moment, I wish I had the ability to go into Spirit form, but being one who still lived on today, I do not. Well, no use detaining him here further. They might get suspicious, just by his prolonged absence. **I think I understand. You would prefer if I keep watch here, until you need me?**

"If you could, I would be very thankful. I'll be back once I see them off," says he, as he shuts the door. I stand still, for about an hour, my own stomach churning with hunger, and my injuries churning with pain as I keep at attention, then I sense my Master's presence fade. Alarmed, I rush out of the house, into the courtyard. _There!_ I sense his presence…but the presence of the other two as well. I head towards the closest fence and pull myself up, peering over, to try and spot him, and make sure they are not dragging somewhere infernal, without breaking Shirou's orders. Stealth is not my specialty, so I am stuck with this makeshift lookout. I strain my aching flank, but eventually I see he is safe. The guardian is also a teacher, and I suppose they are headed to some form of school.

In any case, I could not hold off my hunger much longer. I head into the kitchen, and try to scrape up a meal from what remained there. It is nowhere near satisfying, but I guess I only have myself to blame for not learning how to cook. It did not seem right for the King to be seen in Camelot's kitchens, trying to make a meal. Besides, we had servants enough for cooking, and I never thought I would have to worry about a kitchen myself.

Still hungry, I slip into my room, and slide under the blanket. At this rate, it will be some time before I nurse my flank and shoulder back to health. Hopefully, there were no more dreams like last night. They had a way of disrupting my regeneration. Soon, I slide into the dreamless, recuperative sleep I was more familiar with. It was pleasantly long, but not long enough, before I sense Shirou rushing through the gates. My body slowly gears back up to normal levels of activity, as I hear him call my name. However, I was enjoying this bed a little too much, it being a luxury for someone who has spent her life sleeping on goose down, fur and straw…And only when not on campaign, which I often was. So I remain in it, aware that he was about to come through my door soon.

So soon, that I had not even managed to open my eyes when he entered my room. Maybe he would be inclined to let me sleep some more, so I keep them closed. _Oh, he hurried home to talk to me? Well, in that case…_**What do you want to talk about? **Novice as he was, he is easily shocked, "I thought you were asleep!?"

**I can sense my Master once he enters the gate. **I say, as I rise up, shoving the blanket along with me, and get into a sitting position. My side still stings along the way, but it has improved noticeably. Shirou chooses to ask that very question next, oddly enough. I answer truthfully…sort of. **I was able to sleep for a good length of the day. I believe my strength is close to where it was when I was summoned. **_But still nowhere near what it was in the last War._ He seems astonished at the length of sleep I had taken, as if there was any other action I could take, after such a beating as that given by Berserker. **Yes, when one is not in combat, it is best to have as much sleep as possible.** That was a philosophy I have kept with me, even back during my campaigns as King Arthur.

I look around, as he mulls the length I have slept over. It seems the sun is already setting, so we would be sleeping soon again, after dinner. _My…I am getting really hungry. But I should not admit my inability to feed myself properly. _I sense a presence, again, and interrupt him, **Someone's coming.**

Shirou shrugs, and answers me, "It's probably just Sakura again." I nod, knowing our talk must be cut short once more. **If that is the case, then I shall stay here, until you need me.** Shirou makes as if to disagree with that, and so I ask, **Is something wrong?** He frowns, "It's…well, I just feel bad." I shake my head slightly, **Don't. I am fine here.**

I do not know why I lied. I needed food…a proper meal, to help me sustain my form. It was more than a day now I have been running purely on my stored mana, and it would hamper my recuperation and hence, my fighting, if I am to stay unable to have somewhat regular meals. I lie back down, but cannot sleep, with that tempting aroma filling the room. It is no medieval banquet, but it makes up for it with that exotic mix of smells characteristic to Japanese food.

I sit up, finding myself pining for food, but knowing I would have to make do with the leftovers again. I remind myself that I am here only for the grail, not to live another life, and it makes a whole day in this little room with nothing but a bed more bearable. I suppose, if I cannot sleep, I can think and strategize then. Getting on my knees, I start to mull over battle plans, my brow creased in concentration. It is hard to focus, but I am Saber. I will not be defeated by mere hunger or loneliness. They are my current foes in this confrontation.

A voice breaks into my meditation. It takes me more than a couple of moments to realize that it is Shirou, calling my name. But why? The other two presences were still here, and have not made any move to leave. I look up as the door slides open. He orders…yes, it was a firm order…"Let's go."

Immediately, I am concerned, **Something wrong? Is there an emergency? **In my confusion, I do not make a move as he pulls one of my hands from my lap. It threatens my balance, and so I lay my other hands on mattress, to stabilize myself. His words baffle me even further. "No, I just want to introduce you to them."

I resist his madness, and answer shakily, **Are you serious? You have not lost your mind or anything, right? **He shakes his head firmly and pulls again. "I just can't keep you hidden like this. It's not right"

He pulls me to my knees, but my hand clings on. This is not an order I would rather disobey though. Hunger was conquering me. **But…But you said…** He interrupts me, and all sense of dignity vanishes as I hear his final argument. "I know what I said. I just don't care. Let's just go out there, alright. What will happen, will happen." I allow myself to be pulled to my feet, trying not to blush, gaping at him in open-mouthed shock. _Why does he insist on treating me like a human?_ He does not seem to notice, and I hastily compose myself as I follow him through the home, and then out, into the bright kitchen.

My hands clasped together in front of my skirt, and twiddling my thumbs, I enter behind him, then simply stay quiet, staring straight across the room, but tempted to gaze downward at the tiny feast they had prepared. I knew two pairs of eyes were on me, but from how they looked at me, I decided I missed the courtiers of Camelot. I keep silent, letting Shirou do the talking. A small part of me was curious how he would explain the presence of a pale faced Cornish Celtic girl in his home. But the rest of me braced itself for the debacle that was bound to happen.

But he just introduces me, as if no explanations were necessary. I turn towards him and mumble his name, as if something was missing. But he simply asks me to sit down. "it's better if we all eat together, right?" _I suppose. He's got me there alright. The thing is, they have all seen me now, so I guess there is no point in not playing along…_**Yes, I agree, it is the most efficient way to eat, but…are you su-**

He sits down, then, oddly enough, I find myself in the awkward position of being encouraged by him, "Yes, I'm sure. Don't be shy. If you're staying here, then you're eating here. And that means it's now six meatballs per person." His order is final, but I am unable to even take a step onto the cushion, before the teacher starts yelling, almost incoherently. Three thoughts flash through my head, as I am frozen stock still: One, _What is a meatball? _Two, _That was a chillingly effective warcry. _ And Three, _Are you sure she is a teacher?_

Eitherways, I suppose this agitated reaction and the conversation that follows is expected. It brings up more questions and thoughts, and the information floods my mind. _Hotels? Random girls? Stashing? Innuendo? _The Sakura girl seems especially intimidated, even though I try my best to look my meekest and most unobtrusive…Which means standing stock still. Then, finally an explanation for my presence. _Distant relative? A brown eyed redhead is to be…my third cousin twice removed? Hah._

But my thoughts are suddenly preoccupied by a casually dropped name. _Ki…kiritsugu? Kiritsugu Emiya? I thought Shirou's last name was just coincidence. _He is…my last Master's son, and yet, so different in personality. As Kiritsugu's Servant, I was ignored multiple times, and my words fell on deaf ears, disregarded as idiot for my chivalry, and treated much less than a King would be. I guess that was why I was so willing to be ignored this time around. I simply expected it to be the treatment of any Master towards me. Then, I realize I am addressed. I cannot stay silent any longer. I file my thoughts away, to return to them at a quieter time. I give her something of the truth. I find those make the best lies.

**I am here because Kiritsugu willed it. As a final request, he asked that I protect Shirou from any and all enemies. **My brows are creased and I try to look as intimidating as a young blonde could look. It almost seems to have worked, but then again, intimidation never was my strong point. The teacher stands up, and she insists on finding how good a fighter I am. For a moment, I am puzzled, wondering why any human would think they are a match for a Servant…then, I realize, I have been introduced as another human. I guess now, just like back then, the idea of a girl in her teens being a warrior was not exactly acceptable.

They tell me to come with them to the dojo. I am rather disappointed that, despite having to go through all that, I still have not managed to get any food. I stand facing the teacher, as she holds a bamboo sword in her hand. Rather rudely, she illustrates the consequences of victory and defeat…as if I could be defeated by a human. Without revealing, I try to dissuade her. **I shall agree…though I fail to see the point of this exercise. **Angrily, she refers to how animals tossed out their children so that they learned to be strong. The comment makes my blood boil. I was tossed out when I was born, an unwanted child, not to strengthen me, but because they simply did not want me.

At least the animals did it for a purpose…I calm myself down. It seems winning without hurting her would be the most challenging aspect of this. I needed to calm down, and control my fury. She starts yelling at Shirou as he whines about the same complaint I had. Talking was not going to solve this, so I might as well get it over with. **I will accept the challenge. I just need to prove I can protect Shirou, so it should not be a problem.**

She accuses me of overconfidence and arrogance…then refers to me as 'blondie'. The first two annoy me, though I am not exactly sure how she makes the last one sound insulting. I am blonde, after all. I restrain from clenching my fists and just punching her, and then it comes to me exactly how I am going to disarm her. Her grip had a weakness that allowed me to slide my hand in and knock the sword away.

Knocking the weapon into the air, I sidestep her and slide behind her, catching it easily in my right hand. Well, now I was armed and she was not. That should prove it, right? I am at my finest with a sword in hand, or I would not have been a Saber class. **Have I convinced you now?**

She looks at me with hostility, then surprisingly plucks out another hidden sword from her back. I am not too concerned, readying the sword in both my hands as I was wont to do with Excalibur. However, it seems the hidden weapon was not her only surprise. The bamboo is a fake, and pops open into a colourful bouquet once I grip it hard enough. The distraction it provides is only fleeting.

Once again, I slap the real bamboo sword out of her hands, and catch it behind her. Tossing the fake aside, I proceed to conclude this exercise. As I walk towards her with the weapon in my hand, still being stared at in amazement, I say, **I can go on if you wish…But there does not seem to be a need for it. **I land a light strike on her head, and end our match. _Finally, I get to have a meal._


	7. Status Quo

Author's Notes:

Yep, Bradley, I was curious why she didn't go all spirit in the anime, and looked that up...Apparently, the reason was she isn't a spirit. Still, it is undeniably Shirou's fault that Saber's abilities don't stack up to her Zero self. Well…except her Luck stat. Then again, even in Zero, Saber had some pretty epic luck saves.

Yeah, I think I kinda screwed up with that Archer bit, but I'll just say Archer never seemed very good at following Rin's orders. Heh…j/k. I'm not actually sure that showed up in the anime, and I'm following that storyline.

And I don't think Saber's distrust of Sakura appeared in the anime too. At least, she hasn't made any special mention of it so far in the episodes. Actually, up to this point, it seems Sakura has distrusted or been intimidated by Saber more than the other way around.

As for when Chapter 7 is coming out...I'll go with: Right...about...now:

* * *

Dinner was pleasant, and in fact, compared favourably to the banquets my queen so enjoyed in Camelot. Of course, I had to look sour, eat a lot, drink too much and be a bit of a boor to play my part as King, so that rather hampered any enjoyment I might have had with those banquets. But, I suppose the biggest advantage cooks these days possessed was the universal availability of a much larger variety of ingredients. Potatoes, tomatoes, peppers and chilis are among the foods people here take for granted, but they were unimaginable in my day. All things considered, it was a fine meal.

But that was earlier. Now, I am caught struggling to comprehend the concept of having different clothes for sleeping in. It seems such a waste of clean water for me, though, having to do so much laundry..._Almost done putting on these sleeping clothes._ _They are quite comfortable…Arrgh, my hand's caught on a thread!_

Sakura takes me to the room after teaching me how to put it on, saying I could fix the sleeve when we got there, as Taiga did not like waiting. We enter the room, and I find Shirou arguing with Taiga. I stand at his side and patiently work on the sleeve, as Sakura goes over to the futon to the left. I finish just in time for Taiga to invite me to sleep betwixt them. It was not exactly conducive to guarding Shirou, especially if we are assailed and I have to put my armour on. Both these noncombatants will see me then. I say the first thing that comes to mind to excuse myself. **This won't do. If I am to guard Shirou, I need to stay in the same room as he. **_Same room? Why did I ask for that?_

Taiga is clearly not pleased, and Shirou whispers in my ear, "Sorry, but I don't think she'll agree to anything else, once she puts that face on."

**But…**

"Don't worry. The house is surrounded by a barrier, so we can still meet up inside if we need to." I frown, doubting I could follow that order. Worrying about my Master happens to be one of my jobs as a Servant, after all. The others bid him good night, but just as he exits, I excuse myself and follow him. Going up to him, I look into his eyes, sincerely confused by all these developments, **I would like to ask…Why did you feel it necessary to introduce me to everyone?**

"What do you mean 'Why?'"

_Why does he not understand? _I continue my explanation. **You realize knowledge of my existence by others leaves us at a disadvantage. It would have been better strategy for me to remain in my room.**

His brows furrow, and I bite my lip, as he answers, "Maybe for you. I could not stand it. I felt like you were trapped in that room. Strategy does not always matter." I wanted to respond with a rebuttal or a rebuke, but I could not bring myself too. The last thing I expected as a Servant was to be treated as a human, and now that I am being treated as one…It has been a long while since that happened. Even during my Kingship, my humanity was ever a secondary concern. I am not exactly sure how to respond to what my Master is doing. Keeping my lips sealed, my eyes linger on him until his form has fully vanished in the dark of the hallway. Then, I walk back to the shared room…

Lying down, I find questions are swiftly fielded by both Sakura and Taiga. The evening went by in a blur, and I find answering them creditably more exhausting than a sword fight. But the inevitable question just before I fade off to sleep. "Do you like Shirou?" I am surprised that it comes from Sakura. Then, I realize Taiga is already asleep.

That one made me pause. Do I like him? **He is my cousin…He can be a friend. I have only been here two nights, but I am sure I can learn to like him enough for that. **_And only that…That's as much humanity as I can give him, as a Servant. _I reassure myself with that silent thought, as I see Sakura's eyes relax. I am not blind. I saw that same look in my wife's eyes whenever I mentioned Lancelot. I tried to ignore it for as long as I can, but in the end...Others found out, and no more could I feign ignorance.

That was my only experience with that form of liking…of loving. Courtly love, the poets named it, true romance at its purest. I am not sure I am even capable of that sort of love, knowing what that affair led to. My thoughts are troubled as I fade off to my accustomed dreamless sleep.

In much too short a time, it is morning again, and while I am an early riser, I find Sakura had already beaten me in that respect. It puzzles me why she does this, doing chores on Shirou's behalf. Or maybe she just has a passion for cooking. I go to the room I originally had slept in and change into my accustomed set of clothes for the day, the simple white top and the dark teal skirt. As I put away my sleeping garments, the call for breakfast comes from the kitchen. I see Shirou is up and changed as well, though still sleepy…and as for Taiga, she is just stumbling out of our room. Still, I knew she would hurry up and be ready for breakfast pretty quickly.

Entering the kitchen, I ask Sakura if she needs my help, and, without waiting for an answer, start bearing platters in each hand to the table. She gapes me at as I do this, and I realize my mistake. The plates were still too hot for a normal human to handle, and the finesse and strength, needed to handle such bowls and platters with a single hand was, while not superhuman, definitely not the sort of thing one would expect from a slim teenage girl.

Still, she eagerly accepts this unexpected display of balance without much of a complaint, which puzzles me, and bringing one platter over properly, with two hands and mittens, she shows me where I should place the items I bore on the table. With my aid, laying out all the food is a breeze, and we spend a few minutes at the table, just Sakura and I. Awkwardly, we look at each other, neither of us willing to say a word. I have a feeling she was a looking at me because of that question last night…and as for why I was looking at her, well, she reminded me of someone, though I could not quite place it.

I open my mouth to speak, and she does the same at the same time, but just then Shirou comes in, and he greets both of us good morning. I just use my open mouth to return the greeting. He then gets bowled over by Taiga, eager to have a meal. I stay silent as all three take their spots and admire the food, before saying in agreement, "Let's dig in!"

For some reason, everyone makes sure I am doing fine, eating with chopsticks, just like I was doing last night. It has been ten years, but the technique of handling them has swiftly returned to me. I find it odd, however, that they use the dining table for conversation more than they do for dining, even Taiga. Still, the attention they are giving me allows Taiga to catch me from pouring Worcestershire sauce on the tofu, and I am grateful for that. I would probably have wolfed it down still, without complaint, but while extravagance was an enemy, discomfort due to my error and inexperience with this era was not necessary. I take in the aroma of the sauce, then try to take part in the conversation, finding the cheery atmosphere infectious, even to my usually stoic self.

I guess because I am not used to such table talk myself, the first thing that came to mind was a tad offensive. **Sakura, do you ever focus on anything but food?** It seems I really need to practice my table talk. I regret asking it, and am thankful that everyone's attention is now drawn by the television set…an intriguing device, that. If we had such capabilities in our day, I doubt Mordred would have easily been capable of bringing down the curse of Camlann on my beloved Camelot.

Still, I guess even in these days, the news is the same. Always bad…and in a city playing host to the Grail War, inexplicable bad news unfortunately usually meant a Servant of less than reputable bent operating for their usually less than reputable Master. From what I could tell, it seems this leak is not an isolated accident, and my suspicions are confirmed by Taiga and Sakura's comments. I file the location away in a corner of my mind…

Once breakfast is over, I go to assist Shirou in cleaning up. Not exactly an efficient use of a Servant, but the sooner he was done with the mundane business of being human, the sooner he could start doing the job of being my Master. Taiga tells Shirou to put away the futons, and I turn to look at her in confusion, putting the dish that I was drying down. It seems they are satisfied that I have only Shirou's well-being in mind. I guess the assumption, in the end, was understandable, though, not for the first time, I wish I had been that handsome, well-built and regal man that both history and legend record me to be. I doubt they would have pried a lot more had I been that way. As it was, I had been prepared to spend a few more nights in their company, if need be, to prove myself.

Anyways, that trial has been passed. Shirou sounds pleased about how I have interacted. I guess I am pleased to…For a few moments, I had forgotten I was not human. I summarize my impressions of Taiga. **Yes, Taiga is a good person. It is rare to see someone be so free with her thoughts, and yet not easily influenced by others. **_For me to achieve her character, I have to hold everything inside. If I had that ability, maybe I would have been a more worthy King. She's as carefree as the last Rider or Archer, and as unwilling to bend as either of them, but unlike them, her heart is pure. It is astonishing._

I continue, **And knowing she is your guardian, I…I guess I see why your character is like that. **He smiles and looks at me, asking, "Is that a compliment or criticism?" I shy away from his eyes, then admit what I meant, **I am praising you. **He takes off his apron and notes that he once more intends to go to school. I take his apron from him, taking care not to have my fingers brush his. Just like his gaze, I am finding it more and more difficult on myself to hold his touch, yet am not sure why. I stare after him as he heads off, but he seems to feel me looking. I guess our bond is getting stronger on both ends.

He tells me not to worry, not having realized it was a futile gesture. Repeating to him the fact that Archer's Master is a schoolmate, he shrugs and says there won't be any fight. I concur with the assessment, if he was a reference to fighting between servants. Both Archer and I had been badly weakened to about the same level of strength on my first night in this War, though I feared Archer's recovery rate would be faster, having a Master who could supply him mana.

I glumly look into his eyes, trying to impress upon him the seriousness of the situation, when I ask him for a promise, to summon me should he sense danger. I was not fully recovered, yes, but that was what I was there for…My injuries had also weakened my bond with him, and so at such a distance, I am worried I would be unable to notice any danger to him. For a moment, a part of me is angry at my inability to become a spirit, to be with him, wherever he is. Confused, he stares at his command seal, and asks me if I meant that. I confirm, **Yes…as a last resort. **

As he turns to leave in haphazard agreement, I add, **Also, I wanted to tell you this last night, but it is best that you consider your safety as your highest priority from now on.** He does not even deign to reply, but I am glad he is at least mulling it over as he leaves. The door shuts, and the house is now empty. For a second day, I am to be alone…useless…

His apron grasped in my arm, I dejectedly head to the front window, watching him leave. If I was an Archer or Assassin, or even a Berserker, I would enjoy this, I suppose. Being left on my own to wreak havoc and slay. Independent operations…

I was used in a similar manner in the 4th War, mostly because Kiritsugu and I were so incompatible in some ways. But I never liked it. To be parted from Shirou, whose lack of a sense of self-preservation was almost as strong as mine…I am Saber, and I was meant to be beside…no, before my Master, his shield, his armour…his sword.

I stand at the window long after he has closed the gate and left. I know I should be getting sleep, resting up and preparing for combat, but I just cannot draw my eyes away from the glass. It hits me then. _Right now, I am Shirou's armour, yes…_

Just like those cold unblinking empty suits of metal that stood in the halls of Camelot were my armour. _Like a_ w_orthless statue…  
_


	8. Midnight Vigil

Author's Notes:

Wow…haven't touched this in a while. I'm not even gonna try and explain because it'll be longer than the chapter. Well, I'll try to reboot up my updates here and post faster. School caught up to me hard. Anyways, Please R & R.

* * *

I am starting to feel it. Pacing on the wood, back and forth, back and forth...That is what I'm feeling. It seems my legs are actually starting to get numb. I guess even us Servants have our physical limits. I am not exactly aware how long I have been doing this now, but I know I have not made use of my day as well as I should have done.

Rest is important. I should have lain down, and lapsed into my dreamless sleep, to awaken at my Master's behest. I tried, I sincerely did. I changed back into the sleeping clothes, with a little work, and slid into the sheets…but I could not close my eyes and stop worrying. Is this what the wives felt when I took the men of Camelot to war? And to only know about it now…What sort of King was I? I felt even guiltier, being a woman. Had I really been sacrificing on Britain's behalf, or just sparing myself from having to do women's work and experience a woman's sorrow? A man's life back then was hard, but a woman's was even harder…

I snap out of my thoughts, thinking I heard someone outside, but no…it was not even a cat, just some rustling leaves in the wind. For a moment, I curse my magically enhanced senses, for making me jump at shadows. But I would not be jumping at shadows if I did not want to. I am King Arthur, and the histories are right. Almost nothing could rattle me, pursuing what I believed was my doom and destiny. Only doom itself shook my belief, and shook it badly enough for me to wish to abandon this destiny.

The simple reason why? No destiny, no legend, no fame or notoriety was worth Camlann. Nothing was worth the enmity and twisted relationship between my half-sister and I. And nothing was worth my killing my own child, even if he was born of magic and blood and hate. I may be a warrior, king and a Servant before I ever begin to think myself as a woman...But I am still a woman, as Shirou so bluntly reminds me whenever he has a chance, and still vulnerable to a woman's needs. That is why I struggle so hard to hide what I yearn for, especially with a Master like Shirou. He is...chivalrous, and unlike back in that day, as a Servant, I am obliged to bear my womanhood so plainly and visibly. I never thought I would see the day when I would believe chivalry was indeed a hindrance. Maybe it would have been easier if this child had been just like his father.

I am not one to shirk any challenge though, and when I triumph, then he cannot deny my rightful post at his side. I will just have to be more chivalrous than he is. After all, I am the King of Knights. No boy should be able to match me in that regard, just as no one can match my swordsmanship...My side throbbed, the injury from Berserker forcing me to amend the phrase. _Well, almost no one._

I realize I had not moved for a while now. Far too long...and all because I was pondering why Shirou could unnerve me so, and once again, my loss of nerve is illustrated to me even more firmly. I hear people behind me. Dear Lord, could I have lost focus so much that I cannot even sense such things...Oh dear, Sakura is staring at me. **Hello, Sakura. **She echoes the greeting, but my next words to her are the same as her next words to me: **Have you seen Shirou?**

She shudders, and I recoil as our worries are echoed back at one another at precisely the same moment. Had she been blonde and short haired and green eyed, we might be sisters, so similar was our uncertain expressions. We silently have dinner and even Taiga's belief that he was simply taking an extra shift at his job is not enough to settle my stomach. I wolf down the food mechanically, though Sakura's cooking was such that at one point, I felt myself savouring it. I look out the window at regular intervals, and they take my appetite as proof that I was alright.

After being given a few more tips about how to put on sleeping garments easier, I bid them farewell, then continue my vigil, changed for bed, but not on the futon. He had promised...and he was not the sort who broke a promise, right? However, he had just broken his word yesterday...but that was an event enforced by societal restrictions. I was a girl playing at King. Of course, I knew societal constraints all too well. The sun's last rays vanish, and the promise is officially broken. Time to worry, this time tenfold.

Maybe I should seek him...He could be in trouble. I try to feel out for him, to push my mana to strengthen the bond, even if it drained me. Nothing. I was too far away. I close my eyes and push even harder. _Too...far...away..._

I do not know how long it was, but my eyes flew open swiftly. Someone was here. Scratch that...Master was here. And…Archer? I head to the window and open it, but I do not sense any conflict of hostility. I do hear some yelling, but it sounded more like a philosophical discussion than anything. Granted, it was heated, but nothing to warrant my spending my mana to armour myself just yet. I hear something about Shirou being a burden to me…My mind refuses to acknowledge the thought, but deep down, part of me knows it is true. Shirou's instinct to protect me is almost as large as mine for him.

_If I had been the man my legend made me out to be, I doubt Shirou would try to shield me so recklessly. _It wasn't the first time that thought had occurred to me. King Arthur the legend was so perfect a being, I paled in comparison. Well, no use getting down on oneself. Their talk was done, and closing the window, I head towards the entrance as calmly as I could manage, but I stop myself, realizing I would probably just lose my cool and end up berating him. Reining in my temper, I head towards my bed and slide in, feigning sleep.

It works, and as he leaves after peeking in, I state, **So, you are back. Later than you said you would be.** He apologizes, and as my worries abated, I finally feel fatigue creeping in. Stifling a yawn, I respond, **Shirou…I am just glad you are safe.** With that, I finally fade back into my actual dreamless sleep…_Answers can wait until morning._

That came soon enough, and I was up and dressing as soon as I heard Shirou stirring. I patiently wait for him to exit his room, kneeling at my own door, and take that time to go over in my head exactly what I wanted to talk to him about. I almost open my door, when Sakura comes in, and I lean back, biding my time.

When I am certain she had left, I open my door with thinly disguised disappointment. It rattles with the application of just a little too much of my strength, but I put that aside in my mind. My steely glare falls upon the redhead in front of me, and as he attempts to address me nonchalantly, I cut him off, **Why did you break your promise, Shirou?** He looks at me with uncertainty and anxiety, a look very familiar to me…It had been on many a subject brought before their aloof king. I stand up; my eyes firmly fixed on him, and bid him into my room. I had tucked the bed away to one side, so we could sit on the floor. I beseech him to relate to me in brief the events of the day, and the reason he was late. We had to give the humans the impression that nothing was wrong, and being late would not help that.

I pray for a mundane reason as he starts his tale…but am soon disabused of that hope, my heart torn by my helplessness and uselessness in his home as he relates the grave danger he had been in. And I hadn't known a single thing about it. Assaulted by Rider…and by his accounts, a much more malicious Rider than the last one was, if less powerful. I doubted any Rider could match the one I had fought in my first war, but no Servant was to be underestimated. As he finishes his tale, I tell him, **I have told you before: If you sense danger, summon me.**

He proceeds to make excuses. Does he not see how dangerous Servants are? **Shirou, you fought Rider. That is danger, is it not? **I take a moment to breathe, then cut him off, **As a Master, you need to have more awareness. Even this…alliance with Rin. You should have asked me first. **Not that I was against it. I am a knight. I cannot train a magus. I tell him this exactly, but then voice exactly why I had reservations.

**Rin was originally an enemy, and will be once more. You should be careful about getting too close to her. **And once more, he replies with his foolish feelings and easily given trust, supported by weak reasoning and faulty logic. I am forced to grunt, too much disgust at his naiveté cooped up inside me at that moment. The disturbing part is, I remember having a similar talk with Merlin, in my youth…And I sat where Shirou did now. _And yet sister Morganna still played me like a fool. _Is it him I find fault with…or is it my life, now that I look into this crimson haired mirror of mine?

He tries to continue our conversation, but my stomach rumbles audibly, and I walk out the door without another word, before sitting down at the table for a meal. Mentally, I proceed to quietly declare war on the sumptuous entrées Sakura had prepared for breakfast, intent on letting off steam by consuming as much as was hum- Well, Servantly possible. One, two, three, four, five bowls of rice fall before my wrath, and the tofu, fish and meatballs are vanquished in swift succession. All that was left was the wailing and gnashing of teeth, most of that coming from Taiga's location at the table, as abandon the sweet smelling desolation.

I shut the screen door, but take no further steps. While I had been vigorously consuming, I could still hear the gossip…and even for someone who did her best to ignore such things as myself, I could not help it. I stew in my room, and then come to my conclusion, as to what course of action I must undertake next. Once I had heard that they were about to leave, I exited my own room, and headed straight for the door, putting on shoes as they did, and starting to walk out. Shirou asks the question on both their minds, "Hold it. Where are you going?"

**Accompanying you, Shirou. It is my duty to protect.** And I proceed to open the door, my face still clenched with that determination…which swiftly fades when it comes my turn to be surprised. **Rin?!**

Odd…the lass expected this? I am worried. Is she trying to play Shirou and I? I stand by uncertainly, still utterly devoted to my intention of exiting with Shirou. They keep talking more, whilst I head outside, and ask Shirou what the delay is about. From what I understood, schools prized punctuality. Sakura suddenly runs past me. Why, I had no idea. Maybe punctuality was more important than I had reckoned.

Rin proceeds patronizingly to talk about getting rid of me, as if I were not there. Though, to be honest, that really was how a Servant should act when not in combat. Between Shirou's patronizing treatment, and my unique lack of a spirit form, however, I seem to have gotten rather inept at it. My teeth clench, and eyebrows furrow, wondering what sort of magical trickery Rin was intending to employ, to dissuade me of my goal.

But all she does is proceed to make an argument. As a strategy, I find myself agreeing to the ploy. **I see. We hide Shirou's ineptitude by my absence, to give the impression that he is powerful enough to move freely without his Servant. Especially a Servant not suited to Independent Action as myself. **I cross my arms over my bosom in thought, then nod my assent, and step clear away, letting him walk with Rin.

Yet as the pair passes, I find my feet move without my control, slowly, and it is a struggle to keep still. Inexorably, I progress towards the gate after them, as they turn around it and vanish from my sight. I peek out, and my right hand shoots out afterwards, before I could take another step. The gate is shut. I cannot go out. Another day away from my Master.

As I walk back inside, I pray it would not be our partnership's last.


	9. The Ties That Bind

Author's Notes:

Well, I will try my best to be much more regular with updates. I definitely have no intention of letting this die. Though, as I stated in the first chapter, this will be following the anime's track during the initial part (until Grail Destruction) more than anything, so it doesn't have as much of the combat as the manga or the visual novel.

* * *

_Someone is coming._

I sit up from the bed I was lying in. Not sleeping yesterday has made me tired. I really should conserve my magical energy better, with no method of replenishing it, apart from having meals. Still, it's not Shirou, but they have passed through the outer wall. Otherworldly quickness takes me to the front door, just as the intruder gets there.

My prana is focused, ready to summon armour and blade over my body, should it prove dangerous. But this is no Servant that I sense. So who is it? Wait…

**Why are you here, Rin? **I ask, as I open the door. She is carrying a hefty bag, and tries to look around me, before asking if Shirou was home. I shake my head glumly, and then step aside. This was my Master's ally…and besides, as far as I could tell, she could not hurt me. Polite treatment of her was an obligation I ought to perform. Rin walks in, then ponders out loud, but to no one in particular, "Odd. I was sure he's had plenty of time to get home by now. We were both headed home when we parted ways. Didn't think he'd be silly enough to break a promise to you…twice."

**The last time was your fault. **I reply blankly, not exactly in the good mood. I finally look outside, before shutting the door, realizing exactly how late it had gotten. **I do not understand. I thought our talk this morning had clarified the situation.** I head inside, ignoring how Rin was looking about the house. I end up sitting down by the table. It was still about an hour before dinner.

Rin joins me, asking, "You can sense when Shirou is in danger, right?" I shake my head, and clarify, **Only when he is near. **Rin sighs in exasperation, then postulates, "Why would he not be home? I thought he would be tired after the work we did today."

Now I am curious. I ask Rin to narrate this…work. A barrier at the school that would harvest everyone's souls? Despicable. And yet I have seen worse acts by Servants. Caster of the Fourth War came to mind…All those children. It was a memory I could do without. Suddenly, an earlier thought comes to mind, and I ask back, **Do you think Shirou is in danger? I told him to summon me if he was.**

"I doubt you can count on that. Shirou still hasn't gotten it through that thick head of his that you are here to face danger."

**But I am a Servant...**

"Yes, but remember the night with Berserker. He threw himself in front of the sword. Shirou would rather die than expose you to danger. He still sees you as a delicate blonde girl, not as a trained warrior and Servant." Rin sighs, while I am lost, unable to comprehend such folly. What could have happened to him? What could have…

I breathe out heavily, a relieved sigh obvious to Rin. "He's here, isn't he?"

**I sense no trauma…just a feeling of worry. Let us meet him at the door. **And with that, I stand, heading for the doorway, crossing my arms beneath my bosom just a foot from the doorway, with my eyes closed, listening for his footsteps. I can feel Rin watching my back. I hear him reach for the handle, and my eyes open wide, glaring right at him.

**Just why are you so late, Shirou? **I feel that is enough of a demand. Rin expounds further, and Shirou, upon noticing her, bids us both to a more private room so we could have a talk. I walk their impatiently, while the two Masters converse idly, intent on hearing that explanation as soon as was feasible.

So, he spoke to Shinji, another Master and also a friend…Again. I swear, all Shirou's friends being associated to this Grail War could not be coincidence anymore. Still, if he is a friend, then he was not truly in danger. So his promise was kept. And yet, why did Rider attack my Master then? Shirou speaks further, about the presence of a witch in a temple on the mountains. I could sense it myself, faintly, but had not yet had the chance to investigate. Acting without my Master was something I could rarely bring myself to do. Still, it was best to ascertain whether the two Masters believed this information.

**And how much of this Shinji Matou's information can we trust? **He admits his uncertainty. Good. So at least now I know my Master does not blindly trust everyone. Some progress, at last. Matou…the name sounded familiar. It was indeed one of the sorcerous families…Which Servant did they possess in the last war? Oh, right. Berserker. Unngh…

I fall silent, my angry expression fading from my face as I am once more wracked by those memories. Maybe this is why Servants rarely get summoned multiple times. Such memories are difficult to handle. The rest of the conversation is mostly lost to me, even though I maintain my attention upon my Master's face the whole time. I return to reality once Shirou starts talking of my fights with Lancer and Berserker, trying to compare these heroes to Rider. **I do not understand. A Servant is a Servant. What does he mean, Rin?**

The explanation bothers me. Servants are similar to Masters in their nature. I was a danger to myself when I was young, relying on Merlin's advice and the power of Caliburn and Excalibur and my faith in Camelot and Avalon, blind to intrigue and danger as I was. It is hard to be wary, when one is invincible…Or at least, almost invincible. I had long been disabused of that notion. Maybe in my time, I was the most powerful warrior around, but during the Grail Wars, heroes abound that are all capable of slaying me, should they catch me even slightly of guard. And some…some are capable of slaying me, even when I have given my all. If my Master is as heedless as myself in my rawest, most naïve years…We were in trouble.

It is my turn to provide information, giving the pair knowledge about Ryudou Temple, guiding them to look past its remote location. **I disagree with your reasoning, Rin. The temple sits on a source of fallen spirits, making it perfect for the gathering of souls. **I pause as Rin interjects, then resume as I explain the dangers of attacking it, **A barrier has been set over the mountain. It has no effect on humans, but a Servant entering the compound would have their abilities weaken. **I keep silent about the crack in the barrier. That information, I could probably reveal later.

As Rin mulls the problem over, Shirou seems to sense that I am hiding something. Or at least, I worry he has. **What is it**? He shakes his head, and says it is but a nagging feeling he could not understand. **Do you think it is important? **He does not know. Good.

**Either way, now that we know there is a Master on the mountain, I think we should attack as soon as possible. **Shirou shakes his head, and rebukes me. "No way. We're better off leaving her alone for now." Ah…the noble pacifist! I hate this side of him.

Outraged, I snap back at him, **This is absurd. What have I been resting for, if not this? **It is all I can do to restrain myself from raising my voice further, or standing up to express my disapproval. His response is reasonable, and now I find that I am the undisciplined one. Okay, so maybe we are more similar than I give him credit. We just seem to never act similar at the same time. Still, I am set on my course, refusing to surrender my losing argument. **These risks are expected. Listen-**

Rin cuts me off, and sounds the death knell for my chance of returning to battle tonight. I maintain my polite façade, but I did want to tell her that I did not need her help, or Archer's help, or even Shirou's help, so distraught was I. I try to distract myself with my other worries, upset at not being given the chance. I do not know what caused my cheeks to heat up so, as the two continue to discuss matters. Maybe it was because of my subpar conduct in the fights against Lancer and Berserker. The former had eluded me after shaming me with his Noble Phantasm, and the latter had manhandled me. My Master was only alive out of Ilya's conflicted nature, not due to any fighting skill I had displayed.

Shirou cries out. I look up, wondering what the problem was. It seems he protested Rin moving into the home. I do not see what the problem was. It allowed me to keep an eye on her, and it did help in the process of cooperation. I follow along silently, as Shirou continues his complaints, while Rin ignores him. If I was in the mood for humour, I suppose I would find this funny. Needless to say, this command of inaction still nags at me. I stand by Shirou as he observes Rin unpack. I decide this is a perfect moment for myself to lodge a complaint.

**Since we are discussing room arrangements, I too have a request. I think it is imperative I remain in the same room as you do. **I tell my Master, and he immediately responds with the hysterical notion that he could not sleep lying next to a female. How did he intend to get married then? Back in my day, once I became king, I never spent a day sleeping alone. There was always a servant, maybe two, and the later on, I had to spend some nights with my 'wife' once in a while, to keep the pretence of our marriage alive.

**A Servant must protect their Master while they are asleep. I can only protect you if I am in the same room. **He goes in my face, continuing with his feeble protests while Rin watches on, probably studying our bond for weaknesses she might exploit. She is right though. Shirou ought to treat me as a Servant, not as a human. Suddenly, Shirou breaks off, and changes the topic. His first name? That is what bothered him? I make my right hand clutch my skirt tightly, so that I would not slap him. **I would rather you not change the subject. We have yet to agree on which room I shall be staying in. **Ah…I have been raising my voice on him a lot lately. I do not think even Kiritsugu got me agitated so many times in such a short period. He threatens to use one of his command seals to make me drop the subject. I call his bluff. I may be a bad liar, but at least I could sense when someone was trying to play me for a fool.

My eyes narrow, **You only have three of those, remember? It would be utterly foolish to use one of those seals to force me not to protect you. How can I defend you if we come under attack? **Rin comes to Shirou's rescue, and I find I have to remind myself that she is a competent magus. Thank God for her moderating presence, or Shirou's obstinancy could easily result in a repeat of my failure last war. I merely grunt, dismayed at my inability to force Shirou to recognize me as a Servant. Rin was right. Shirou still saw me as a fragile maiden first, and a Servant second. Did he not learn anything from the last few days? Eitherways, the discussion takes a more satisfactory turn. It was dinner time.

Rin proceeds to offer to make it, saying they could take turns making meals. As she starts cooking, she continues the discussion of tactics, bringing up Berserker plainly this time. I really did not wish to think about that fight, so I decide to pay attention to Shirou's reaction instead. He and Ilya were the biggest obstacles to our success, and I knew it too. Diminished as I was, and injured as well, I had to admit, Berserker would be a difficult foe, **You are right. Summoning such a hero requires a tremendous amount of mana. **Still, if that was always the case, then how was Shirou able to summon me? Was I not first rate? Did the Grail deem me a weakling? Best not to think about it. It would only lower my confidence in my fighting abilities…which after the fight with Berserker, was not exactly at a high.

I suggest that Archer ought to keep watch over the perimeter of the compound for security. Rin responds that she had already seen to it. I hide my disagreement with the idea of having to run should Berserker attack. I could beat him. I know I can. Though…with a Master like Shirou, I was far from my fullest potential. Either way, once more, I am reduced to the role of bystander as she starts to flirt with Shirou…Wait, steal me? What did she-

The bell rings, and I motion the two of them towards the door, watching in confusion as they try to drive Sakura off. I am not exactly in agreement with the matter. Sakura's cooking was a work of art, and I would be dismayed if she came by no more. Still, it was not my position to question my Master in matters completely unrelated to the Grail War. The fact that he was involved in matters completely unrelated to the Grail War was really my only complaint.

Matou? Sakura was…Oh, yes, the younger sister was not trained as a magus. She would probably not even know. And here comes Taiga in three, two, one…The door opens, and I slowly walk towards the kitchen, not wishing to be around when the boisterous teacher starts becoming unreasonable. Even a Servant's ears were capable of being injured, after all.

I quietly eat dinner as Shirou receives his scolding, quite certain that protecting a Master from his legal guardian was not part of my mandate as a Servant. It was not life threatening in the least. I simply watch, my appetite fading with each outrageous shriek. The volume level finally drops as Rin takes on the argument, and I close my eyes, trying to focus on other things and noises, much further outside. A certain tone I pick up bothers me. What could it be?

With this in mind, I accompany Shirou outside, as he watches Sakura and Taiga head home. Biding my time, I finally speak, **Shirou, about the witch at Ryudou Temple…Are you certain about your opinion?**

"You haven't let that go? I said no. There's definitely a trap there."

**I am not naïve enough to think we can win unscathed. They may try and break my body, but as long as my head can think, I can fight. **Okay, so maybe not entirely true…But I could heal just about any damage my body took. _As long as I have the prana._

"Are you insane? Who said it was okay for you to get hurt? Listen…As your Master, I cannot allow you to be put in that situation." _Is he serious? Is he really serious?_ **Getting injured is part of being a Servant. I will not tolerate a Master who avoids battle because he fears for my safety.**

"Disapprove all you want. You're not even completely healed yet." Well, that definitely struck a nerve.

I protest weakly, **They will not cause any problems in combat. I do not need you to worry about such things. **Unfortunately, it seems my Master was determined to do the exact opposite of everything I tell him tonight. He reminds me of that awful night, "You were beaten pretty badly by Berserker before. Do you want to see us both knocked out again? This time, we could be killed."

_I can beat him, Shirou. Please…I can beat him. _I shake my head slightly as the wind picks up, sensing something even more troublesome…coming from that temple. **That is a cowardly thing to say, Shirou.**

"Anyway, we are not attacking, alright?"

**Understood. If that is what my Master says. **He leaves me no choice. _Apologies, Shirou. Only I am attacking then. _I walk back inside, fists balled, rage barely contained. Does he think so little of me? I, who would shatter mountains for him, if only I had the mana? Tonight, I would prove him wrong. As I sit on my futon, and wait for silence, I find myself echoing the age old soldier's excuse. _I am only following orders…or lack thereof._


	10. Stairway to Heaven

Author's Notes:

Hmm...for some reason, I didn't feel as inspired by this fight scene as I usually am by writing fight scenes. Maybe I just don't get Assassin. Or maybe the randomly shifting staircase just really bugged me. That, and on a closer review of the episode when I looked through this bit again, Saber's swordsmanship really did not seem up to snuff. Also, I know in the manga, Assassin actually bled Saber, and shattered a gauntlet, but I'm following the anime, remember? Besides, I'm not exactly fond of how Saber always seems to get the worst of every first encounter.

Anyways, Please R & R. =3  


* * *

Rin is asleep. So is Shirou. Time to go. Slowly, silently, I walk outside. _Shirou, you are so naïve! The other Masters will just kill you like that!_

I assemble my prana, taking but a moment to armour myself , then starting the long dash across town. Part of me is getting the feeling that I am being watched, as I storm up the mountain at a speed blinding to the human eye, sword stretched out in my right arm. I have no idea what I would face, but I expected to meet the Servant somewhere along the way. It was only natural for the Servant to block my path to the Master.

As I reach the long stairway, I slow down, trying to sense the presence of my foe. He is up there, somewhere…I finally catch a glimpse of him, standing beneath the entrance. Coming to a stop, I immediately put my other hand on my blade, ready for battle. Yet his calm expression compels me to keep my blade lowered as yet.

**Who are you? **Wait…Stupid question. Shirou must be rubbing off on me. It is not like he is going to-

"I am an Assassin Servant. Kojiro Sasaki."

Or not? What sort of Assassin is this? Oh, well, I was slightly familiar with the legend. Still…to give his name so freely? The surprise was probably visible on my face. I back off slightly, lowering my blade. I finally rationalize this action.

**You place me in an awkward position. Having given me your name, as a knight, I must return the courtesy. **I pause, still unwilling to reveal myself. Last War, that early revelation might have proved to be my undoing. **So then, Kojiro, allow me to introduce myself. I am-**

"It doesn't matter. An adversary who feels obligated by politeness to give her own name? That would make me the one with bad manners." Okay…If you say so. I try not to sigh my relief, a task made easier by his slow advance upon me, with that lengthy sword. I place both hands on my weapon once more, turning sideways, prepared to meet him in battle.

He keeps talking as he walks, "Names are not relevant. See, for people like us, only our swords need to know an opponent. That's the true role of a Servant." Not only is he a cocky Assassin, but he certainly is a talkative one. Still, I cannot discount the danger. The Assassin class is a dangerous one. After all, the history of all assassins lie in their actions to kill leaders and heroes with a single knife stroke, changing history in that instant, altering the course of time in that moment.

Plainly put, Assassins kill Kings. And I am King. Last war, we were assailed by the True Assassin, the veritable creator of the class himself, and perhaps the one true Assassin. And I say we, as in we three Kings. Yet even the deadly clan of the mountains could not stand before the army of the King of Conquerors, and I was saved from having to duel such a foe by myself. While this might not be Hassan-i-Sabah, he must be a worthy bearer of the title as well. I must be on my guard.

He raises the sword nonchalantly, about a foot in my face, and asks me, "Do you not agree, my honourable Saber Servant?" _All except for one thing…I am not yours. _I refrain from speaking the insult. Not while my guard is still lowered, **No, you are right, I agree with you completely.**

I leap back a few steps down, giving myself space. It would be my downfall to let him start a duel so close. I would begin this on my terms. Grunting as I hit the step, I finally feel ready. As for him, it appears he was ready from the beginning, "Very well then. Let's do our jobs, shall we?" He draws the blade back, favouring a high grip, while I was more accustomed to the low stance. Strong as I was, Excalibur was, and always shall be a heavy sword. Keeping it raised up high was a waste of precious energy.

Our feet start moving at the same moment, swords clashing in a rhythmic cadence of steel ringing, boots scuffing up steps and grunts of exertion. Slowly, inexorably, I push him back. As long as I keep my offensive momentum, I would break past the gate, eventually. Repeatedly, I attempt piercing blows to my fullest reach, forcing him to withdraw more and more, then revert to slashing when he tries to recover the ground lost. When I feel he has yielded enough, I unleash more powerful slashes.

A miscalculation, that. The increased power allows him to dodge easily. I have to recover from the third swing, before taking a quick step and locking swords once more. I apply as much of my strength as I dare, but he takes advantage of his higher position, and knocks me down quite a few steps. Spun about, I push off one step with my hand, push off another with my feet, then come at him again with a yell, unwilling to lose the ground I had gained. Yet, he calmly parries and dodges my strikes, while my anger rises. Maybe this was how he assassinated people. Strange. I always thought the Kojiro of legend was not so calm. Then again, I was certainly aware of how wrong legends could be. The closest anyone ever got to finding out the secret of my gender was a hunch that I was beset with impotence…

_This is not working. _Having conceded this, I back away, sword at the ready, waiting for him to come at me and force me off my ground. But he only takes the opening to talk, for we both knew too well that it was I who had a destination, while he only had to retain possession of the entryway. Very well, if he would take this respite to gloat, then I shall take it to rest. My swordsmanship over the last few minutes has been a lot more vigorous than his, unfortunately. Not out of any overexertion, but because of the blade's heft. It was an exhausting weapon to wield as a simple sword, though it always promised to make up for it in its stored power.

"You're doing quite well. I never thought I would have such trouble with an invisible sword. You might have seen, my sword techniques are rather brutal. A swordsman of average skill would have lost their head on the first stroke. You have managed to resist until now. I'm quite pleased, Saber." I say nothing, keeping my eyes on him. Studying the surroundings, I decide my best chance for victory is to gain the wide step he is upon. There, my striking power should overwhelm him. Brutal his strokes may be, but no blade could break mine. And I am more than capable of keeping it between my neck and his razor edge.

"What's wrong? Is that all you have? Surely that invisible sword of yours isn't just for show." And now he has officially shifted from gloating to mockery. I feel rising bile inside me, but I choke it down…the anger, the disappointment, the confusion, the doubt. I should make a note to myself never to go assaulting another Servant after having a shouting match with my Master. Or at least, to me it felt like a shouting match. I have rarely been so filled with emotion before, and it grows with every minute I spend here. Holding it down is more difficult than usual. No matter, I need but to persevere. And to charge…right…about…now!

**Cease your babbling! **I shout, midway, a stroke that should have cleaved through a lung, thereby making it cease. He leaps back as I release it, his robes billowing as the wind released by the blow passes him. And at the same moment, he blurts out my blade's exact proportions with a grin. I come to a halt, gasping. If he needed any confirmation, he had it there. Well, at least now I had the wide step. **You…without magic or enough sword blows, you have deduced my sword's measurements?**

He does not answer that directly, demanding nonchalantly that I reveal my true skills. If only I could do that with no compunctions. Unleashing my Noble Phantasm would destroy the temple. I dare not, unless I am pressed close to defeat. And if he remains as defensive as he is, such would never happen. **Are you suggesting I am taking it easy on you?**

"Are you not? I know not your intentions, but I feel belittled by the fact you're fighting with you sword still sheathed." I had no response to that. To be honest, I have not thought of it that way. Do I insult my foes by keeping my blade sheathed? That was never the reason why I bear this barrier. Then again, this is the first Servant I have faced more intent on critiquing my combat style than actually fighting me. He continues, now threatening, "Very well. If you are unwilling to unveil your true skills, then I shall show off my secret blade techniques first."

Slowly, he steps down, bringing his blade up to the side. Gritting my teeth, I watch this tall swordsman advance upon me. What now…is he really the one guilty of holding back? "Ready your stance, Saber, else you shall die!" Well…you definitely did not need to warn me twice. I lower my left shoulder, and raise my blade up. Whatever this technique was, mayhaps it would give me the opening to strike a fatal counterblow.

His blade flickers in the moonlight. It is difficult to keep track of the motion of that thin edge. He turns it so that the flat now faces the ground, having the weapon now behind him. It takes a certain will not to be entranced. His eyes are closed, and he is turned away from me, yet I dare not strike. My senses are all screaming at me that it would be some manner of trap.

He yells his technique, yet it is not a Noble Phantasm. I sense no expenditure of mana for it. What is this then? A simple sword trick? How? I am hard pressed to dodge the flashing blades, my intuition doing all the work, for my mind is still enraptured by the name. I breathe easily as I find myself falling away from this…Turning Swallow Strike. Even with all my speed, it still stung. I think a blade glanced off my gauntlet, as I cry out involuntarily.

My mouth is forced shut as I bounce off one of the steps in my sudden drop. Jarred my back on that one…and I think I've aggravated the deep wound Lancer dealt me once more. Unngh…I feel him say something else, but I am lost for the moment, unable to comprehend what had just happened. My mind is simply on getting back on my feet. Not a difficult task…I just somersault in the air after impact, and there-Ow.

I really doubt I avoided all of that attack. But I definitely escaped enough to remain standing. I regain control of my breathing, my blade still raised. I take the time he uses explaining to recover, and to settle my own nerves. Continuing my semblance of outward calm is easy, but inside, I am torn. This man might be a more dangerous swordsman than I. "If you wish to succeed with the Turning Swallow Strike, you would need to complete these two slashes almost simultaneously…"

He lures me into the discussion, for with that manoeuvre, along with nearly severing , he had piqued my attention. **But that technique was not just a simple slash. At that precise moment…there were two swords: Multi-dimensional refraction. Without the use of magic, you have created a Noble Phantasm with just sword techniques…**

Assassins finishes off with a threat, not denying or confirming. "My footing was bad. The Turning Swallow Strike requires a third blow. If I had a wider step, I could have dealt you that third slash." I do not dare think of the implications. I could have lost the Grail War right here, had we been on flat ground. I was almost certain he could have pierced my breastplate, and then my torso. His next words only add to my worries. This Servant was her simply for a fight. It was his greatest desire. And he sought me as an opponent to provide it to him. As for that leading to my death…if I were not more careful, it could very well do so.

Well then, if that is what he wishes, I will show him my best. This attack, I am certain he could not stop. **You are right. You are an opponent I cannot hold back against. **There was no other way. Adjusting my grip, I turn sideways, lowering the blade so I have room to complete the motion for this attack. His smile is startling, as if he was truly pleased that I would show him my Noble Phantasm. Did he really imagine he could survive it, knowing nothing about it? I would have thought one faced with death would bear a more serious expression. Assassin's blade goes through the same entrancing motion once more. Yet my eyes have adjusted now, and my thoughts are clear. It is only him that I look at, and at the exact moment the sword stops, I turn, blade slowly rising.

Time to unsheathe it. The winds howl, the earth shakes, and my sword glows, my arms shaking as I struggle to maintain my grasp on it. Oh, I would never drop it…but it is not an easy weapon to take to its limits. I would be lying if I said it did not hurt to use it. My wide stance is enough to take the brunt of this earth-shattering force I was gathering, given my enhanced strength as a Servant. **Let us see if you can withstand my attack, Assassin. **My skirt billows beneath me as I continue to focus my prana on extinguishing the Wind Barrier, releasing all this excess air. And yet the man continues to stand there calmly, as I stood there quietly, harnessing my power into the blade.

He demands I attack. I turn sideways, the sword almost unsheathed, ready to oblige. But then I sense it. Shirou is here. And…someone else? A Servant. Where? My focus shatters. The billowing winds of magic fade. My blade stays sheathed. And…Assassin withdraws to his gate. "Someone is trying to spy on your sword. If this goes on, it will no longer be a fight between us two." Then, he turns inexplicably to go back inside the temple.

I rush up the steps, confusion reigning in my mind once more, **Wait! Assassin, do you not plan to finish our duel?**

"Only if you step through this mountain gate, then we shall finish it. That is all I can do, unfortunately. Besides, now you can hide your sword once more. Someone is even here to receive you. It's best if you leave before our spy changes her target."

I could only clench my teeth. He knows I am drained, and only sheer will is keeping me conscious through the painful backlash of mana soaking back into my body by force. Shirou…why are you here? Well, I could worry about that later. At least he saves me from the painful jaunt back to the compound, and the chance of collapsing en route. I could barely comprehend his voice now. My prana dissipates, my sword leaves my hand, my arms drop to my side, and my legs feel like jelly. So…much…mana…My concentration is non-existent now.

Shirou…for this, even I am not tough enough. My body shivers involuntarily as I feel myself falling, praying with my last strength that my Master remains safe on the trip home. Then, blissful oblivion takes me. Yes, blissful. A rare sort of oblivion, that. If I had the energy to, I would cherish it more dearly.


End file.
